Shoelaces
by AquilusNyx
Summary: Puck's sexuality crisis wasn't his fault. It wasn't even Hummel's. It was his shoelaces. Seriously. PUCKURT Three-shot. Smut Ahoy!
1. Shoelaces

A/N: This isn't as good as my last fic, I don't think, but parts of it are really good and I've been working on it for ages so I really wanted to share it. It's a similar sort of thing as before, vaguely-plottish but mostly smut. Any constructive critisism would be great; just telling me you like it is good too. I love hearing which parts people liked most or which lines made you laugh, it helps me work out when I'm being funny or not. That sort of thing will help me improve! Thank you and enjoy!

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Puck would forever blame his sexuality crisis on his shoelaces. If they hadn't come untied he never would have gotten a boner for Kurt Hummel's ass.

'Cause, like, he didn't usually look at Hummel's ass. Ever. Why would he? Most of the time where there was Hummel there were chicks to look at instead. But his shoelaces were untied so he'd needed to crouch down to tie them up, and that put him at eye level with a pair of sexy-as-fuck knee high black boots. Now, Puck was not ashamed to admit that he kind of had a fetish for knee high black boots - on chicks, that is, not on him - so he did stop for a look. These were hot boots, three inch heels and suede, tight on a pair of slender calves with three buckles up the outside. He'd let his eyes trail up slowly, seeing that a pair of sinfully tight white skinny jeans were tucked into the top of the boots. The thighs those jeans covered were just as sinful, muscular and long; this chick's legs went on for_ever_. And that ass!

The legs shifted, turning away from Puck so he could see that _amazing _ass; tight and small but round like a C, pert and perfect. He got hard, like, the second he saw that ass. And no one could judge him for that! Any guy would have found that ass (_and those legs and those boots and those_ _jeans_) sexy as hell. But then the legs turned again and he looked up to see if her tits were as good as the rest of her and it was Kurt freaking HUMMEL, fiddling with his iPhone with his weight on one hip, and Puck really, really fucking wished that had killed his boner but it hadn't and it was all his shoelaces' fault.

So now Puck found himself spending disturbing amounts of time following Hummel with his eyes, trying to get another decent look at his ass without anyone noticing, and even though his lust should have been dead and buried the second he realised he was checking out a dude, it wasn't. Holy fuck-buckets, it wasn't. Hummel's ass was still as smokin' as the first time Puck had seen it, his legs were still miles long and his pants were still so tight it should be illegal; or they usually were, anyway. When they weren't Puck would spend most of the day sulking.

He began to wonder if Hummel's ass was as squishy as it looked, or if his lips were as soft, or what his ever-so-cultured voice would sound like rough with sex or screaming Puck's name. He wanted to see Hummel flustered, hair a mess and sweaty and flushed, clothes rumpled and unbuttoned or just plain gone. He had wet dreams about Hummel's pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock that were hotter than his dreams about a threesome with Jessica Alba and Scarlett Johansson. He got hard in Glee watching Hummel shake his ass around to the music, and had had to adopt a kind of hunch-back posture to hide it. He was totally, undeniably, 100% lusting after Kurt Hummel, and it was all because of his hot ass and knee high boots and Puck's fucking shoelace.

So now the thing Puck wanted more than anything in the world wasn't a million dollars, wasn't a rosewood Telecaster, wasn't a dozen Playboy bunnies at his beck and call; it was Kurt Hummel alone in his room, on his bed, for one hour.

"Puckerman, why are you looking at me like I'm the last eclair in the bakery?"

And thanks to Glee and the Hat of Fate, that was exactly what he had.

Puck had almost kissed Mr Schuester when he'd announced the duet project and pulled those two names out of the hat. It was perfect. _Perfect_. The perfect in to Hummel's pants and he couldn't wait to see if his fantasies could be out-done. He'd practically skipped over to Hummel when he'd had a chance, and the look of absolute glee on his face had kind of creeped the countertenor out. He'd tried to look more innocent when he suggested that they meet at his place after five because his mom would be out, but that just seemed to make the kid _more _suspicious. However, he'd found no way to politely decline, so at five past five Puck had let the immaculately dressed Kurt Hummel into his house, head so full of plans and schemes for getting the pale boy in his bed and on his dick that he'd almost forgotten to say hello.

Now the sexy (_beautiful, gorgeous, totally fucking HOT_) boy was gingerly sitting on Puck's bed like it was going to bite him, looking more than a little unnerved at the almost psychotic joy on Puck's face, looking through this iPod for possible song choices for them. If he didn't get Hummel naked by the end of the evening he might have to... shank a kitten or something equally rage-ful and psychotic; he wanted Kurt so much it _hurt_, and not just because of the epic blue balls.

"No reason!" Puck grinned cheerfully, once again almost skipping as he approached the boy on his bed (_On his fucking BED, yo!_). Hummel looked at him like he was completely insane as Puck dropped down right next to him, their thighs pressed together. Puck leaned over under the pretence of reading the screen of Kurt's iPod. "So, you got anything decent we can use on that thing?"

Hummel's eyebrows were raised at their proximity, and he shifted away from Puck. Puck just leaned over more, reaching over to grab the wrist that held the iPod. He smirked a little at the way Hummel's posture stiffened as he squinted at the tiny screen, practically leaning on Hummel's thighs.

"I am not doing a show tune," Puck stated flatly, releasing the iPod and leaning back to rest his elbows on the bed. No show tune could possibly help him get into Kurt's fantastically tight pants, they were too tame. "No fucking way. Pick something else."

Hummel huffed at him, shooting a glare over his shoulder before returning his gaze to his iPod, "You have no appreciation for the classics. Les Miserables was the third longest running show in - "

"I don't care, dude," Puck interrupted flopping onto his back and staring at the cracks in the ceiling. "Let's do something recent. Something sexy."

When Hummel took a breath to speak, Puck specified, "Something sung by a _guy_."

Hummel let the breath out in a huff, and Puck could just imagine him pouting. He began to sit up to see if he could catch a glimpse of that when Hummel spoke again.

"How about Adam Lambert, then?"

Puck paused, "Never heard of him."

"Well, he's new, and he has some very sexy music."

Hummel's voice was so perfectly innocent and light that Puck was suspicious. He sat up again, "He's gay, isn't he?"

There was a smile in Hummel's voice now, as well as enough mischief to give Puck his answer, "Here's his album cover. Tell me what you think."

Puck leaned over Kurt again, intentionally propping himself up with an arm that brushed Hummel's waist. He squinted at the iPod, and spoke in a completely dead pan tone, "Oh my God, Prince and Gerard Way had a baby together, and he's a douchebag."

Hummel cracked up at this, rocking back into Puck's arm. Puck smirked up at him as the smaller boy threw his head back, surprise making him forget his composure.

After a moment he calmed down, placing a dainty hand on his chest, "Oh Gucci, you're totally right. That's exactly what he looks like. "

"Does he have any decent music?" Puck leaned in again, pressing the arm he was leaning on against Hummel's side a bit; just enough so that Hummel could feel the heat his muscles radiated. He saw Hummel's eyes flick over to him, and smirked. He was getting to him. _Point: Puckerman._

"A few things," Hummel nodded, fixing his fringe in a way Puck had seen him do constantly in his fix of Hummel-watching. "If you want something sexy, _For Your Entertainment_ is probably the raunchiest. It's not very subtle."

"Let's hear it."

They bent their heads together in order to listen to Kurt's iPod. As the raunchy words and sultry beat pounded into Puck's ears, he took a chance to check Hummel out. He was wearing another pair of those fantastically tight skinny jeans he favoured so much, and a long purple button-up shirt that may or may not have actually been a dress, cinched at his waist with a thick belt. Puck didn't like it; he hadn't been able to see Hummel's ass all day.

The song came to an end, and Hummel tried to shift away, "Mr Schuester would probably have a heart attack if we do that one, so -"

"It's perfect," Puck smirked. Hummel froze and looked over to him, eyebrows raised. He grinned, "Come on, it's dirty as hell, got a decent beat, and we could totally make it hotter."

"And Mr Schuester?" Hummel's pouty mouth quirked into a smile. Puck's eyes flickered to it, and his grin turned a little feral.

"He's going to pick Rachel or Finn's anyway. We should totally do this one."

"And you have no problem with singing a song about sex that's by a gay man, with a gay man?" Hummel's voice was disbelieving, and his raised eyebrows were quickly becoming a kink for Puck. He forced himself to focus on Hummel's blue-green eyes ('_Oh wow, imagine those eyes looking up at you while that mouth was -_') and responded with his cockiest drawl.

"Studs are exempt from sexual labels. It's, like, the rule -" (T_hat Puck had recently made up in order to save his sanity and pride_) " - so fuck no, I don't care. I wanna do this one."

Hummel shrugged a dismissive shoulder, "Okay, _For Your Entertainment _it is. That was easier than I , hey, I think he's Jewish too. You'll be able to keep your record. "

Puck shrugged, "I would have done it anyway."

"Seriously?"

"What can I say, I'm just full of surprises," Puck cocked his head to one side, pulling out his most charming smile, the one that made cheerios and their mothers alike suddenly decide they need a new pool cleaner. Hummel appeared unaffected, looking through his bag for something.

"Uh huh. Do you have a printer?"

"Not since Sarah broke it," Hummel paused in his rummaging, looking up at Puck blankly. He clarified. "My kid sister, Sarah? My mom told her the printer was out of ink, so she broke like forty pens and jammed the inks into the cartridge slot."

Hummel's mouth twitched into a smile, and Puck nodded, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, we can't afford a new one, so no printer. I just print stuff off at school."

"Well, that's not of much use to us now," Hummel shook his head. "You need the lyrics. I'll have to write them out for you."

"Take your time, I'll start downloading the song," Puck got up and moved over to his ancient computer - (seriously, it was his mom's in college) - and hit the on button (and the side when that didn't work). As it booted up, he swiveled in his chair around to watch Hummel. He was still sitting with effeminately crossed legs, resting a note book on his lap as he wrote. Puck greedily took in the sight of his strong, slender hands working, allowing himself a short fantasy about what else they could do. When Hummel happened to glance up at him a minute later he had a hungry smirk on his face, and he knew his eyes would be dark. Hummel paused.

"Can I help you?" he said slowly, suspicion making him shift back a little. Puck smirked wider.

"Just enjoying the view," Puck drawled, sliding down in his chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him, raising his hands so they were linked behind his head. He saw Hummel's eyes flicker over him and smirked; it had taken several hours of experimentation in front of his mother's long mirror, but he knew that this was his sexiest pose. It showed off his legs, his guns, and his awesome torso in general. Particularly if, like now, he was wearing a t-shirt he'd shrunk in the wash - it stretched across his broad chest and rode up at the bottom, showing a line of tanned skin. Hummel's eyes settled on that, and Puck couldn't help but taunt him a little. "See anything you like?"

Hummel's cheeks flushed ('_I wonder how low that blush goes?_') and he scowled, drawing himself up as tall as he could whilst still sitting, "No, but you should probably know that your ego is showing... and your computer loaded a while ago."

Puck craned his neck to look over his shoulder - it really had. He whirled around, setting up the download quickly so he could go back to watching Hummel. He turned his body in the chair, swinging his leg over the back to he was straddling the back of it. He slung his arms over the back and resumed his inspection of Hummel. Hummel was scowling a little now, and might have been - no, he was definitely pouting. Puck rolled the chair forward until he was only inches away from the countertenor, leaning over the chair to look at how much he had done. Hummel glared up at him through long lashes.

"Ever heard of personal space?" his voice was icy, but Puck just smirked at him, trying to twist his head to read the writing on the page. When that didn't work he slid off his chair and back next to Hummel on his bed. His body was pressed against Hummel's arm, and he felt Hummel shift uncomfortably.

"How much you have to go?" he turned his face to Hummel's, letting his breath (fresh, he'd made sure to chew some peppermint gum when he'd found out Hummel would be coming over) warm the other boy's face. A hint of a blush stained Hummel's pale cheeks, but his voice was just as composed and haughty as ever.

"Still about half. Go check on the download."

Puck reluctantly obeyed, smirking a little when he heard the quiet sigh of relief behind him. He pushed his chair out of the way, instead bending over the desk so his tight-jean covered ass was on display. He thought he heard a slight intake of breath behind him and grinned.

"Still ages, our Internet is fucking slow," he called over his shoulder. A devious thought flew into his head, and he fought to keep the mischief out of his voice. "Hey, I'm going to check on Sarah, she's in her room. Back in five."

Hummel waved him away, frowning at the note book in front of him. He tried not to look too devious as he left the room. He poked his head into Sarah's room, where she was lying on the floor colouring.

"Hey Sar-Bear, do you want some juice?" he asked her cheerfully. Her head shot up when she heard him, and she her smile was made all the cuter by her missing front tooth.

"Yeah, apple juice!" she squealed, all but launching herself at him. He scooped her into a hug, then allowed her to clamber around him until she was getting a piggy back ride (her preferred method of transportation). As he carried her off down the hall he felt a little guilty about using her to help him get laid, but he figured she'd never know about it. All she'd know was that her brother was a weirdo and she got juice.

Once in the kitchen he set her down on the table. She swung her legs back and forth and sang a little song under her breath as he got two plastic cups out of the cupboard. He turned to face her, kneeling down so she was above him. He smiled at her cheekily, and spoke in a stage whisper, "I need you to do me a favour, Sar-bear, A super secret, can't tell anyone favour."

She nodded seriously, leaning forward with wide eyes. He smiled wider, and lifted the cups so she could see them, "I'm going to fill both of these cups with apple juice. This one -" he held her favourite Disney Princess cup higher, " - you can drink, but this one - " he raised the other cup, " - I want you to pour on me."

She blinked her big brown eyes at him, tilting her head to the side in confusion, "How come?"

He shrugged, quickly thinking up a story that would make sense to an eight-year-old, "I want to taste like apple juice."

She giggled, "You're really silly, Noah."

"Yep!" he grinned at her. "I'll clean up the floor and everything. All you got to do is pour the apple juice on my t-shirt... and don't tell anyone. Okay?"

"Okay!" she nodded vigorously, wide eyed and earnest.

"That's my girl, just a minute," He stood up, putting the cups on the counter. He filled both up with juice under her watchful inspection. He put hers to one side, then turned to give her the other one. He knelt in front of her, holding out his t-shirt so it was easier for her to hit.

"Okay, aim for my shirt and not my face, all right?" He instructed. She nodded, giggling, and poured it over him. He swore when the ice liquid seeped through his thin shirt, making her giggle and sing, "Noah said a bad word!" He stood up when she was done, inspecting the mess on his shirt and the floor. He grinned.

"Perfect, sweetheart. Here's your juice," he handed her the cup. He carefully put her on the floor away from the spill, not letting any get onto her. "Now go back to your room, okay? We're having pizza for dinner tonight."

She cheered and merrily rushed out of the room, totally ignoring Puck's "No running with juice!" He peeled his wet shirt off and walked the few feet to the laundry room, throwing in the sink. He wiped up the juice from his chest with a wet towel, and then the juice from the floor. He headed back to his room with a bare, wet chest and a smirk.

He slipped into his room confidently, Hummel apparently done with the writing. The countertenor glanced up at him over his cell phone, doing a double take when he saw Puck's defined (_divine_) chest on display.

"Lose something?" Hummel spluttered, looking back at his phone with flaming cheeks. Puck shrugged easily.

"Sarah spilt apple juice on my shirt," he said airily. Hummel stared determinedly at his phone as Puck swaggered over to stand right in front of him. "You done with the lyrics?"

Hummel pointed to the notebook on the bed next to him, and Puck leaned over him to grab it.

He sat down next to Hummel nonchalantly to read over them.

"These are seriously hot," he commented, lying back on the bed so his toned chest was stretched out, all for Hummel's eyes to feast on. He could see under the book that that was exactly what was happening; Hummel's eyes were focused on Puck's abs like they were the most delicious thing he'd ever seen. Puck even thought he saw Hummel lick those plump lips of his. He continued as though he were oblivious. "The choreography for this is going to have to be extreme. Should be fun."

"Mmm," Kurt hmmed his agreement, still staring at Puck's abs. Puck raised the book so he was staring straight at Hummel, smirking his challenge. For a few seconds Hummel didn't notice, caught up in his own thoughts (_fantasies_), but finally he dragged his eyes away from Puck's six-pack, up his defined chest and to his smirking face. Kurt's face flushed, and he turned back to face his phone.

"The download must be ready now, go play it. We'll start dividing up parts," his voice was higher and faster then usual, and Puck chuckled under his breath.

"Yeah, sounds good," he got to his feet slowly and swaggered over to his computer.

"And put a shirt on, for Gaga's sake," Hummel added fiercely, glaring at his phone. "This isn't a Playgirl photo shoot and I'm not one of your desperate housewives."

Puck clicked the music on, and turned to face Hummel as it came on. He quirked an eyebrow at the smaller teen and lazily scratched his chest with one hand. He saw Hummel's eyes focus on that hand for a second, before dragging his eyes back down to his phone.

"I know you're not and I know where we are," Puck rolled his shoulders as the music began blaring from the speakers behind him, shooting Hummel a challenging look. "You seem to like the view anyway."

The countertenor blushed again, but didn't look up, "Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day it will be true. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm attracted to everything on the planet that has a dick."

"Wouldn't think you were," Puck shrugged. "But I am pretty fucking hot. Have you seen my guns?"

He flexed his arms and Hummel's eyes flickered up. The smaller boy sighed dramatically, "Yes, Puck. They're very nice. Now would you please put a shirt on? We have more important things to do then feed your ego and sully my virgin eyes."

Puck chuckled and sauntered over to his drawers, pulling out a black t-shirt he knew had been shrunk with the one he'd been wearing earlier (He wasn't good at laundry, okay? There was a reason he hadn't warn a white shirt in a while; all his were now pink.) He made sure to face Hummel before he pulled it over his head, the other boy's gaze burning a hole in his stomach. Hummel was looking back at the lyrics when his head finally poked through the top, but there was a bright flush on his face that belied his innocence. He marked a few points on the note book with his pen, ignoring Puck when he once again sat down next to him.

"The parts I've circled are what I think you should sing," he informed him, his voice slightly higher again. Puck leaned over him in order to see the lyrics better. Hummel continued to ignore him. "We can choreograph around that. Go start the song again, I'll sing along, you read the lyrics."

"Yes, your Highness," Puck rolled his eyes as he stood up. "Seriously, what is it with you and dishing out orders? I'm no one's bitch."

"That's funny, you're doing a great job of doing what I say," Hummel smiled at him sweetly, a glint of...something interesting in his eyes. Puck met the challenge.

"Anything for you, Princess."

Hummel flushed again. Puck smirked._ Point Puckerman._

He hit the play button and the beat began pounding through the room again. Puck sauntered back over to Hummel, standing directly in front of where he was sitting on the bed. It put the smaller boy at the perfect level to -

"This is the part you'll be singing, would you at least read the lyrics?"

- boss him around some more. Puck sighed and snatched the lyrics from Hummel's waiting hand, trying not to pout. He knew getting into Hummel's pants wouldn't be as easy as the average Cheerio but _damn_. He was using his best tricks and Hummel still hadn't cracked. He needed to move things along.

He plotted as they ran through the lyrics a few times. Hummel seemed rather shocked (_disappointed?_) at his sudden drop in interest, but helped him learn his part without commenting on it. Puck picked it up pretty quickly - music was his _thing_, you know? - and Hummel let out a surprised huff.

"Okay, that's actually pretty good," he admitted grudgingly. "I can't think of any advice I can give you in terms of singing it -"

"I can think of something for you, actually," Puck's voice was sly, and he grinned at Hummel's indignant gasp.

"Ex_cuse_ me? _You're _going to criticize _my _singing?" Hummel's voice was getting higher, and Puck snorted as he almost squawked the last word. Puck raised his hands in a placating way.

"You sound fantastic dude-" ("Do _not _call me -") - "Sorry, _princess_. You sound awesome, you always do. You're awesome," Puck reassured him, getting to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. "But you can't treat this sort of song like it's _Over the Fuckin' Rainbow_. It's about _sex_. It should _sound _like sex."

Hummel's cheeks were pink again, and he was glaring at Puck with an adorable pout. Puck continued, drawling suggestively, "I mean, shit. That part in the middle, where you go all high and do that long note...thing? I'm pretty sure that's meant to sound like you're coming, princess."

Hummel's pink tint turned into a totally red blush, and he spluttered. Puck smirked, and shrugged innocently, "You know what? Forget I said anything. You couldn't pull it off, anyway."

"Excuse me? Are you saying I can't be sexy?" Hummel demanded, getting to his feet and putting his hands on his hips. Puck knew an opportunity when he saw one; he stepped forward and slid his arms around Hummel's narrow waist, pulling the other boy flush against him. He grinned wolfishly at Hummel's wide-eyed gasp, and leaned in so their lips were almost touching.

"Trust me, princess. I know you can be sexy," Puck murmured. He leaned it to kiss the smaller boy, but found two soft, slender fingers in his way. Hummel's eyes were narrowed suspiciously, but he didn't pull away.

"Puckerman, what are you playing at?" his voice was flat and his expression was hard, but Puck knew what someone who wanted him looked like. Hummel's eyes were dark and his breathing was slightly faster then it had been before. Puck smirked. _Pretty much looks like that. "_You've been hitting on me since I got here, and surely you know me well enough to know that I'm too smart to fall for your shit with no questions."

"I'm playing," he drawled, sliding a hand down Hummel's back as he spoke. He skipped Hummel's ass - no point in freaking him out too much just yet - and instead grasped the smaller boy's toned thigh, grinding them closer together. "At both of us getting laid tonight. Or at least getting off. Whatever."

He didn't pull his mouth away from Hummel's slender fingers, letting his slightly chapped lips brush against them. Hummel was _still _looking at him with a deadpan expression, but there was a promising spark in his expression, "You're straight, Puck. And I'm not so desperate as to be a moron."

"What, princess, weren't you listening to me earlier?" Puck smirked into those long fingers. He trailed a hand up that delicious thighs, stopping just at the curve of that ass he so admired. "I'm hurt. I told you, studs like me are exempt from sexual labels. Call me what the fuck ever you want, I'll fuck who I want to fuck."

"Even the resident fag?" Hummel's eyes were challenging. Puck didn't falter.

"Anyone who makes those weird-ass clothes look as hot as you do is someone who's pants I want to get into."

"Why would I want the guy who spent many years making my life hell?"

"Shit, haven't I paid enough for that? Yeah, I was a douche. I'm not asking you to forgive me or love me or _like _me. I'm _suggesting _that we both take advantage of a clearly mutual attraction and get our _freak _on."

"Those were some pretty big words in there," Hummel teased, one arched eyebrow rising. A smirk played on his soft, pink lips, and he was looking at Puck with curious eyes. "I'm sure you know Mercedes, my dad, and Finn well enough to know what will happen to you if you're just messing with me."

"Yeah, it would not be pretty," Puck agreed, wincing. "But I'm not. I'm hot, I'm horny, and you have a damn fine ass. You want some of this or not?"

There was a long pause. Finally, Hummel's fingertips traced his lips and muttered, "Well, I guess my other option is being celibate until college."

Then the fingers were gone from his mouth and were replaced by lips as soft as silk and those slender fingers sliding up the back of his neck. Puck smirked into Hummel's mouth as he got to work, trailing his hand up and finally, _finally _getting to squeeze that fantastically sexy ass.

Both boys groaned into the other's mouth at the contact - Kurt at the sudden, thrilling burst of pleasure that his already hypersensitive body processed, Puck from the realization that yes, it _did _feel as good as it looked. Kurt's hand was tangled in Puck's t-shirt, pulling the taller boy against him. Puck smirked into Kurt's pouty mouth at Kurt's total abandonment of composure the second their lips had crashed together. The pale boy's lips were silky soft, but forceful and greedy. It wasn't like kissing a girl, teasing and submissive. It was _hard_, a battle for dominance; their lips fought for control of the speed and tempo, their tongues curled around one another roughly, teeth occasionally clashed together... all of it sending shooting sparked from the tips of tongues to the tips of fingers and toes. It was _electric_.

Meanwhile, both boys attempted to grasp all of the other at once. Kurt's strong fingers were digging into the back of Puck's neck to hold him close, then dragging down strong arms to feel the muscles move underneath the skin, sliding up firm sides and across Puck's broad, muscular back, always trying to pull their bodies closer together, even after there wasn't any space between them. Puck kept one hand kneading the ass that had so tormented him, loving the way it felt underneath his hand and the sounds Hummel made when he squeezed. His other hand roamed around Hummel's tight body, finding a surprising amount of enjoyment in the smooth planes of waist and back, not really missing the feeling of breasts against him as he groped; damn, maybe he really did like dudes as well as chicks. He was sure as fuck enjoying this.

Hummel was whimpering and moaning like it was the greatest thing he'd ever felt, and Puck took a moment to yank their groins together. The movement made Kurt cry out, and Puck took advantage of his distraction to plunder that hot, wet mouth again. He slid his tongue in and out, pushing Kurt backwards towards the bed. The smaller boy didn't let him keep control for long, however. The second Kurt felt his knees hit the edge of the bed, Puck found himself being pulled around by surprisingly strong arms. Puck was suddenly flat on his back on his bed, with a flushed Hummel crawling up his body.

"God _damn_, Hummel," Puck gasped as a muscular thigh ground down against his erection and swollen lips latched onto his throat. Pleasure shot down Puck's spine and made his eyes slide shut as Kurt took control, talented hands rubbing at the muscles in the taller boy's thighs and chest while an even better mouth set about devouring the column of his throat. Puck managed to grind out a snide remark through the haze of lust. "You really are desperate for it, aren't you?"

"Shut up, Puckerman," was the biting reply - punctuated by a sharp bite on his throat. Hummel rose up so he was straddling Puck's lap, looking down at the taller boy with lust darkened eyes. He ground his hips down, rocking his ass against Puck's erection. His bruised lips twisted into a satisfied smirk at the groan this produced from the boy below him. "You're loving it."

He kept rocking his hips slowly, sensually, as his hands drifted to the belt around his waist. Puck's darkened eyes focused on the movement, content to just lie back, enjoy the building pleasure from the grind, and see what Hummel had in store for them... for now, at least. Those long, pale fingers undid the belt with ease, flicking it off and throwing it to the side with one movement. Puck reached up and grabbed Kurt's bony hips, shifting the rhythm of their slow rock. The air crackled between them as they rocked together, holding the gaze of the other. Time seemed to be running slow as Kurt unbuttoned his shirt-dress, revealing flawlessly pale skin inch by inch. Somehow, the sensuality of the slow striptease and the grinding was the hottest thing Puck had ever experienced. Every sensation was magnified by anticipation; even the feeling of the soft skin above the line of Kurt's jeans on his calloused fingers was going straight to his cock.

_And this is just the foreplay_, he realised, mouth watering at the thought of it getting better. _Doing Hummel was the_ _best. Idea. EVER._

Hummel's face flushed redder as he slipped the violet fabric off his shoulders and tossed it onto Puck's desk chair. Puck grinned; the blush really did go all the way down. The thought broke the hold Kurt's gaze had on his, and he began to move. With one movement the taller boy twisted and pinned Kurt underneath him, and the spell that had slowed time down ended. Languid sensuality was replaced by a raging, desperate lust, and they were kissing again. Hummel's skin was soft and heated under his rough hands, and Puck couldn't help the almost vicious tweak he gave one of those dusty pink nipples. The noise Hummel made went straight to Puck's groin; he was an expert at making women scream, but never from something as simple and rough as a twist. He dragged his mouth away from Hummel's, dragging wet lips down the pale neck, biting gently on the pronounced collarbone, grinding them together as he _slooooowly _dragged his lips to that now-reddish nipple. The gasp this caused... _tingled_.

He gently suckled then nipped at the bud, switching over to the other one when ever Hummel's breathing started to become more gasping than inhaling. He'd never had a lover react to easily, so loudly, so hot...ly. He would have been perfectly happy to continue tweaking and twisting until Kurt came in his skin-tight jeans, but the countertenor had different ideas.

"Puck," he half snarled, half groaned. He was trying to glare, but the flush on his cheeks and his slightly unfocused eyes made the effect less than intimidating. "These jeans are really tight and kind of uncomfortable right now, so if you don't help me out of them right _fucking _now, so help me Prada_ I will destroy you_."

Puck snorted, but obeyed. He trailed a teasing hand down Kurt's torso ("Oh fuck, oh fuck, you _tease_, cut it _out_.") and paused to grind the bulge under the zipper. Kurt made a whining noise, his back arching off the bed, and Puck smirked, _Who's awesome? I'm awesome._

He initially bypassed the zip, running his hands down those legs that still seemed like they went on forever. He ignored Hummel's protests and threats, simply sliding off the weird-ass white shoes Hummel was wearing, and the socks. He slid his hands back up the trembling legs and finally, finally moved to help Hummel out.

It took two hands to undo the button - Hummel took tight jeans to new levels - but as soon as the zip came down a blue silk covered dick jumped out and oh yeah, Puck definitely liked dudes as well as chicks because that was one of the hottest things he had _ever _seen. Puck peeled the jeans off eagerly, pressing an impulsive kiss to a smooth, hairless thigh as he did. Kurt's dick actually twitched at this, and fuck if that didn't make Puck feel even more like a sex-god than usual.

Puck never thought he'd want to touch another guy's dick - even when he'd imagined this, he'd less thought about touching Kurt and more about _Kurt _touching _him _- so the burst of heat that struck him when he pulled down the silky blue boxers caught him off guard. Kurt lay naked in front of him, miles of smooth skin and sweat, hair a mess and unashamedly panting in his lust, and Puck wanted to touch every inch of him. This was the Kurt Hummel Puck had wanted to see since he first wanted him; messy, desperate, aching, wanting, _frantic_...

"Puckerman, if you don't do something soon, so help me I will take care of myself and leave."

...and still so hilariously Kurt Hummel that Puck's lust was interrupted by an unexpected wave of affection. _He's almost delirious and he's _still _bossing me around..._

"Your wish is my command, princess," Puck murmured, sliding his hands up that smooth torso and trapping Kurt's lips in a kiss. The smaller boy writhed underneath him, sliding determined hands under Puck's t-shirt and impatiently tugging it up. Puck obediently slid it of his head, gasping when a hot mouth latched onto his skin. It was like Kurt was trying to devour him, pressing kisses and nips and licks all over his chest and abs. The countertenor suddenly paused.

"Holy Jacobs, I thought you were lying but you actually taste like apple juice," he said flatly, and Puck just laughed and kissed him again.

Puck's jeans were quickly disposed of by an increasingly impatient Kurt, kicked to the floor and leaving their naked bodies pressed together. Their mouths wrestled, hot and wet, as they rocked together. Puck's nerves were on fire. Every touch was driving him crazy; the heat and passion of the tongue almost fucking his mouth, the soft but firm hands roaming across all the skin they could reach, the slight pain of nails digging in during a particularly strong thrust, the feeling of soft, sticky skin desperately rutting against him, and the noises, God, the noises. He would have guessed Hummel was vocal but the whimpers and moans and gasps and pleading... he needed more. He dragged himself away from a protesting Kurt and wrapped a hand around his own cock, and his other around Kurt's. Kurt bucked into his hand, eyes shut. Puck's cock twitched.

"Enough foreplay," he growled, slowly jerking Kurt off and relishing in the moans. "I want to fuck you. You game?"

Hummel's eyes snapped open, and for a moment he just stared into Puck's eyes. Then his gaze trailed down Puck's ripped chest, the sweat and the six-pack, to the thick cock that was red and leaking. He moaned, "Fuck, yes, I want that in me. Do you know how-?"

"Yeah, I've done this with girls, don't worry," Puck pressed one last open mouthed kiss to those trembling lips and gave Kurt's leaking cock one slow stroke before sliding off the bed. "Hang on."

He left Kurt whimpering to grab the lube and condoms in his bedside drawer. When he turned back around, Kurt was biting his lip and staring at the ceiling. Puck paused. He dropped the stuff on the bed, then slid next to Kurt. He trailed a hand down the smooth torso in front of him, and pressed soft kissed up the pale column of throat. When Kurt hummed a happy noise, Puck spoke, "Nervous?"

"A little," Kurt admitted, shrugging the shoulder that wasn't pressed against Puck. Puck sucked on his neck a little, smirking when he saw how easily a soft pink mark raised. "Never done this before."

"Relax," Puck pulled himself so he was above the smaller boy. He let his cock trail against Kurt stomach, leaving a line of precum in it's wake, and the boy's breathing sped up, licking his lips. "I'll make it good for you, and I'll stop if you tell me to, no questions. I know what I'm doing. Who better to give it up to then an old pro, right?"

Kurt grinned, and nodded, "Excellent point. Just... be careful?"

Puck lowered his head and brushed his mouth across Kurt's, "It's no fun unless we're both having fun anyway."

Kurt nodded," Okay. Do it; fuck me."

The sound of that dirty plea from prissy Kurt's mouth nearly did Puck in. He pressed their mouths together again, trying to pick up the heat from where they had left off. Kurt responded eagerly, sliding his hands up and down Puck's chest to grasp his cock. Puck groaned and reached for the lube, skillfully uncapping it with one hand and coating his fingers. He nudged apart Kurt's legs with his knee, and the smaller boy spread them willingly. The smell of sweat and sex was making Puck's dick twitch, and he gladly used the time he spent teasing to get himself under control; it wouldn't do to only last a minute. He was going to rock Kurt's world if it was the last thing he did.

Kurt's breathing was heavy as Puck slowly slid the slippery fingers down his chest, but when Puck shot him a questioning look he just snarled, "Hurry up, I'm so hard."

Puck chuckled, pausing to stroke Kurt's cock and watch his back arch, "Patience, babe."

"Fuck patience, I want you to be fucking me now," was the desperate plea. "Puck, just do it."

Puck teased Kurt's hole with one finger, just slipping the tip passed the ring of muscle, "What's the magic word?"

Kurt moaned and clung to Puck's biceps as the finger dipped in and out of his hole just barely, building a burning want in him like he'd never felt before. He tried to shift down and force it in further, but Puck just pulled away with him, "Oh fuck, Puck, just do it!"

"Not until you say the magic word," Puck twisted the finger a little, teasing without giving enough to scratch the itch he knew the other boy was feeling. He gently squeezed the weeping cock in front of him, ignoring his own arousal for now; he'd get the mother load in a little while anyway. Kurt gave a low whine as Puck slid his finger just a little further then he had before, but nearly sobbed when the finger retreated again.

"Puck!"

"Now until you say-"

"Please, Puck. Please _hurry up _and _stretch me out_ so you can fuck me and _I can get off_. _Please_!"

Puck wordlessly slid his finger home, and Kurt's voice cut off with a surprised squeak that turned into a whimper. The smaller boy was rocking a little into the intrusion, fucking himself on the finger.

"Fuck, that's hot," Puck swore, hungrily watching as the thoroughly debauched boy ran a hand over his own chest. The mohawked boy latched his mouth onto Kurt's neck again, sucking another spot red as he slipped a second finger along side the first.

"Oh fuck, fuck, yes," Kurt babbled, rocking himself with more energy. Puck just held his hand still and let Kurt do the work, keeping his eyes on the sweaty, flushed face and the lust glazed eyes as he jerked himself a little in rhythm of Kurt's self-stimulation. Puck started twisting his fingers a little, jabbing them in unexpectedly before pulling them out slowly, fascinated by the increasingly frantic reactions of the boy beneath him. The girls he had tried this with had been disinterested at best, nothing like the writhing mass of mewling lust twisting around in his sheets now. He started scissoring his fingers, loving the way the tight flesh clung to them and tried to swallow them up. He added another finger at Kurt's mostly incoherent urging, twisting and stretching and driving both of them crazy. When he hit a certain angle Kurt nearly screamed, shamelessly begging to do it again as he bucked frantically. Words and sounds were spilling from Kurt's mouth like a waterfall. Puck drank it in greedily.

"More, I'm so ready, do it!" Kurt begged, bucking his hips up. "Please, Puck, fuck me now, I want you so much."

Puck grabbed a condom, ripping it open with his teeth and sliding it on with practiced skill. Kurt whimpered when his fingers slipped out, spreading his legs wider and pulling Puck into another kiss. Puck felt Kurt's slender hand slide out from under Puck's chest and grabbing the lube. A slightly shaky hand rubbed Puck's cock with the slippery oil, making the taller boy groan. After a moment Puck battered his hand away, "Enough, I don't want to come because I've fucked you."

"Do it," Kurt urged again, biting Puck's neck softly. "Just... slowly."

"I will," Puck promised, lining himself up. He pushed in as he'd promised, slowly and carefully. The amazing tightness and heat made him glad he had to go slowly; he was going to lose it in no time if he just pounded in. Kurt's moan was hoarse; he was beginning to lose his voice from all the noise he'd been making. Both boys gasped and clung to one another as Puck slowly pushed into Kurt, letting the boy feel every inch sliding into him, stretching him, filling him, until they were totally joined. Both boys took a moment to focus; Kurt on staying relaxed despite the somehow-pleasurable burning feeling of being split, Puck on not ending it before it had really began. Puck's concentration was broken when Kurt started squirming underneath him, rocking his hips and creating an amazing friction where they were joined.

"You ready?" Puck ground out between gritted teeth (_Holy shit, I feel like Finn. I need a mailman!_) He felt Kurt nod.

"Yes. I'm ready."

Puck took his cue. He rocked back, pulling out of Kurt slowly. When only the head was still inside that amazing heat, he pushed back in with the same agonising slowness. Kurt gasped again, babbling his pleasure at the ceiling as he dug his nails into Puck's biceps.

"Oh god, oh god, so good, more, faster, it feels so good - "

"Fuck, you're so tight. You want me to go faster?"

"Yes! Please, Puck - fuck!"

Puck rammed back into the sweet, tight heat of Kurt's body, and finally gave into the urge to pound into him. His thrusts became fast and rough, trying to find the angle that would make Kurt scream. After a few slams, he found it; Kurt's breathless moans became wild shrieks. Puck shut his eyes,just letting himself feel the insanely tight grip Kurt had on him, the heat and slick of their sweat skin rubbing together, the twists and desperate bucking of the hot body beneath him... he wasn't going to last long. Now he just had to make sure Kurt didn't last either.

"Touch yourself," he growled into Kurt's ear, licking a line of sweat of his pale neck. "Jerk yourself off while I'm fucking you."

Kurt whimpered and obeyed, still grasping one of Puck's arms as though it was all that was keeping him from losing his mind. He moaned at his hand's contact with his leaking cock, jerking it gently and erratically as Puck continued his thrusts. Puck groaned when Kurt's inner walls clenched around him, and his rhythm stuttered.

"I'm so close," Kurt whimpered, his whole body beginning to shake. Puck clenched his teeth and resumed pounding that amazing angle.

"So come, Kurt," his voice was low and husky in Kurt's ear. "Come on, come for me."

Kurt's eyes slid shut and he whimpered. After a few more thrusts his back arched. He almost screamed, a hoarse, frantic sound that went straight to Puck's dick. Come sprayed across both of their chests, covering them. Kurt's bucking was the last straw for Puck, and he gave a few fast, hard thrusts before he came, slumping forward and pressing their come-coated chests together.

The were a few moments of heavy breathing, cooling skin pressed together. Puck pulled out reluctantly, tossing the condom into his bin without looking; he hadn't missed since he was 15. He rolled back next to Kurt so they were lying shoulder to shoulder.

They caught their breath, come and sweat drying on their skin. Puck could feel his muscles twitching all over his body from exertion, and he couldn't feel his fingers or toes. _BEST. IDEA. EVER._

"So," Kurt broke the silence, his voice weak and hoarse. Puck looked over at him; he was looking at Puck with bashful eyes. "Um, I don't really have anything to compare it to, so was that...okay?"

Puck blinked, "Okay?"

"Yeah, I mean," Kurt glanced away, still too flushed from the sex for Puck to tell if he was blushing; he sounded like he was blushing. "It was great from my perspective, I mean, it was _amazing_, but I don't know enough about s-sex to know if it was good or not-"

"It was good," Puck interrupted, brain too fuzzy to take advantage of the unusual break in Kurt's confidence. "It was - wow, it was really good. Like, top 10, which considering how many people I've had sex with and that you were a virgin, that's good."

Kurt smiled a little, "Top 10? That _is _good. I can live with that."

Puck nodded as vigorously as he had energy for, "Yeah. Maybe even top 5. That was awesome. You're going to be a fire-cracker with practice."

Kurt's smile became slightly proud, "Yeah? That's good to know."

They lapsed into silence again. Kurt laughed suddenly, "Let's leave this part out when Mr Schuester asks us about our creative process, yes?"

Puck grinned, "I don't know. That would be...hilarious."

Kurt giggled, "'But Mr Schuester, we were thinking outside the box!'"

"'We were getting into character for the song!'"

"'Adam Lambert made us do it!'"

"'Yeah, that bitch!'"

Both boys found themselves rolling around the bed, laughing. Puck looked at Kurt curiously, _This is a lot less awkward then most after-sex conversation. Kurt's not so bad when you get past the prissiness - wait, when did I start thinking of him as Kurt?_

"So!" Kurt sat up and leaned on his hands. Any shyness was gone, replaced by confidence and comfortable sexuality. "I know you said this was one-time casual fun, but can it be, maybe, _repeated _casual fun? I mean, if we both enjoyed it-"

"Definitely," Puck agreed, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I can't wait to see what you're like with practice. Hey, I'm going to call for pizza for me and Sarah, want to stay? Maybe we can actually get some work done after dinner."

"We got something done," Kurt protested, looking at his come stained chest with a mixture of curiosity, amusement, and distaste. "But yes, thank you. I'll stay. I'll just text my dad and tell him I'll be home later. Do you have a wash cloth or something?"

"Here," Puck threw him the box of WetWipes he'd already used to clean himself off with. "Keep 'em here for this very reason. What kind of pizza do you like?"

"I'll eat anything, don't worry."

"Okay, cool," Puck pulled on his jeans and grabbed his t-shirt. "I'll be back in five. Bathroom's next door if you need it."

"Thanks."

Puck slid out of his room and over to Sarah's. When he stuck his head it she was still colouring, only this time she was colouring her Barbie dolls for some reason.

"Hey, Sar-bear. You want Hawaiian?"

She just nodded, concentrating on the Barbie she was carefully colouring in blue. Puck smiled and went to leave, casually mentioning, "My friend is staying, just so you know."

"Huh?" she looked up at him, wide eyed. "But none of your special friends ever stay."

Puck blinked, still feeling a little slow, "Oh. Yeah. I guess they don't. But he is."

Sarah shrugged and when back to her dolls, "Okay. He's really noisy. What game were you playing?"

"Call of Duty. He was losing."

"Boys are weird."

"I'm going to go order the pizza now, Sar-bear," he shook his head and wandered into the kitchen to make the call. Okay, she was kind of right, none of his casual-fucks stayed to hang out afterwards. But Kurt had been cool about it, not clingy or bored or _boring_, so why shouldn't he stay? Maybe they could actually legitimately have the 'friends' part of their proposed 'friends-with-benefits' situation. _Yeah, that would be...cool. _Kurt's voice from down the hall interrupted his planning.

"Puckerman! You left, like, _six _hickeys on my neck! My dad is going to freak! You are _so dead_."

_Maybe we can be friends if he doesn't kill me first. _

As Puck ducked outside with the phone in hand, he caught sight of the shoes he'd kicked off after school. He could hear Kurt ranting through the door, something about his dad and concealer and revenge - revenge with _handcuffs_. Puck smirked down at his shoelaces; it was all their fault. He should build them a shrine or something.


	2. Super Mario Brothers

A/N: Yes, I continued it. I don't know why. It will now be a three-parter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Enjoy!

* * *

Puck would forever blame his crush on Kurt on Super Mario Brothers. If it didn't exist, he never would have realised how amazingly cool Kurt actually was.

Of course, Super Mario Brothers was like that. It was revolutionary; it couldn't help making stuff happen. So maybe Puck shouldn't have been surprised that when Kurt came over for some _fun _and he'd forgotten to put away his old school Nintendo, shit was going to get real. Specifically, his heart leaping out of his chest and doing the macarana around his living room when Kurt's face lit up and he said, "Wow! Is that Super Mario Brothers? I haven't played that in years. Could we play for a while? I used to love it."

It had probably started before then, if Puck was honest with himself. They started a friends-with-benefits thing during that Glee project, and both of them were happy to work on the 'friend' bit as well as the 'benefit' bit. Losing his virginity seemed to relax Kurt a lot; he was still as bitchy and superior as ever, but there was a playfulness around him that Puck hadn't seen before. He actually laughed at Mr Schuester's terrible jokes and chatted to Rachel with almost no mention of the sequined cat on her sweater. Maybe getting Puck's rod in his ass had dislodged the one that was already there, who knew. All Puck knew was that he seemed less defensive and more confident, and Puck couldn't help but be a little proud that he'd had a part in that.

And Puck felt better too. It was fantastic to be getting laid without having to worry about girl drama he usually had to deal with; Santana's "We're-not-dating-but-if-I-see-you-with-another-girl- I'll-cut-you" bullshit, the cougars' "How-young-do-I-look?" whining, even the cheerleaders "OMG-now-we'll-be-together-forever!" shit. With Kurt, they hung out, they got off, they got over it. Perfect! Puck didn't know why he hadn't tried bisexuality sooner, guys were awesome. The sex was just as good, if not better then sex with most chicks, and Kurt _got _it. He wasn't expecting happily-ever-after or even for Puck to acknowledge him in the hallways. _Have I ever mentioned that doing Kurt Hummel was the best idea ever?_

After the initial (_amazing_) fuck, they'd met up almost every day for a week to choreograph their Glee thing and fool around. They usually managed to get in an hour or so of rehearsal before one of them snapped and tackled the other to the nearest horizontal surface, so by the time the actual performance came around they were pretty good. It was Kurt's brilliant idea to base their choreography around that initial fuck - standing face to face, wrestling for control, slow heat to frantic passion - and after his gleeful laughter had died down, Puck had agreed. They almost ruined their own performance on the day laughing at the open-mouthed expressions on the faces of every gleek in the room, not to mention Mr Schuester's expression of "I-know-you're-just-doing-this-to-fuck-with-me", as they swung their hips, threatened to take of their shirts, and ground together shamelessly. When Kurt screamed that orgasmic line, "Let me entertain you 'til you scream," Puck had almost taken him then and there. It seemed like Kurt had taken his advice; he sounded just like he was coming. Mr Schuester's barely concealed annoyance when he said, "Great, guys, but I don't think we can use that for Sectionals," finally broke them, and they'd gotten sent out of the room; their hysterical laughter had been preventing the other performances from starting.

They spent a lot of time laughing when they were together. Kurt's sense of humour was fast and biting, and even when the razor wit was directed at him Puck couldn't help but grin. Puck himself had spent too much time around cheerleaders to not pick up some bitchy habits, all of which Kurt mightily approved of. They argued, like, _a lot_, but it was kind of fun to try and outwit the infamously witty Kurt Hummel about the appeal of boxing or the benefits of fried chicken dipped in chocolate. And they agreed about stuff too, like how it was good that Coach Tanaka left because his shorts were an abomination for anyone with working eyes, or that Brittany had probably been dropped on her head as a child..._repeatedly_. More often than not, after they were worn out and sweaty and sated, they'd just lie together on Puck's bed or floor and talk and laugh for ages. They were totally not dating - you have to go on dates to be dating - but they sat next to one another in Glee and texted when they were bored. Not just sexted (although they did that too) but actually, honest-to-God texted. Like, conversations and shit.

Actually, maybe Puck should have realised what was going on when he deleted his file of hot-Santana sexts to make room for funny-Kurt texts. That should have been a big fucking give-away right there.

But he didn't get it. Not until Kurt's face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw Super Mario Brothers and Puck's heart started a conga line with his spine, guts, and balls.

"Sure, we can play," he heard himself saying over the rushing in his ears. "If you're prepared to lose."

"Bring it, Puckerman," Kurt breezed past him, swinging his hips to move his checked-pants-clad ass in a way that made Puckzilla twitch. "I may be out of practice but I had mad game with this once upon a time."

So he started the game and they were playing and laughing and suddenly it's 11-o'clock and Kurt's dad is calling to ask where he's gotten to and they haven't so much as kissed, and Puck doesn't regret that and he realises he is _so screwed._

So now Puck is actually crushing on Kurt Hummel and it's all Super Mario's fault. Damn it's irresistible charm and massive impact on the gaming industry as a whole!

His mouth grinned as he walked Kurt to the door, bending down to kiss him and suggest they try again on the weekend. His mouth said, "This was fun, babe. How about we try for something even better this Saturday?"

His brain was saying, "_Ohshitohshitohshitohshit_!"

The second that cute ass disappeared into Kurt's baby, Puck was running up the hallway and slamming the door of his room. _Ohshitohshitohshitohshit_...

He wanted Kurt. Not like, wanted to fuck him because he was already _doing _that but wanted to _date _him. Wanted. To. _Date_. Him.

_WHAT_.

Puckasaurus didn't do dating. If he did, it was a means to an end, and that end was hot, sweaty sex. Actual dates bored the crap out of him; dinner and movies and spending cash and holding hands and what the fuck was the point? Dating was a trade-off system; he made the chick feel like she was a princess for a couple of hours, and then she made him feel like a sex-god for a couple of hours. Win-win! Why the hell would he want to trade amazingly good, strings-free sex for the one thing about sex he hated - actually working for it?

He and Kurt were friends, and that was cool. Puck liked hanging out with Kurt before and after (and today, instead of) sex. The younger boy was funny, interesting, and bitchy as hell. They talked and played video games and stuff and that was fun! They had all the good parts of the relationship, the fun and the companionship and the AMAZING FUCKING SEX, without all the crappy bits like monogamy and effort and shit, so what more could Puck want?

_The hand holding and the commitment and being able to tell people and the kissing that doesn't have to lead to sexOH MY GOD I'M TURNING INTO A WOMAN!_

Puck grabbed his phone, preparing to call someone, anyone to ask for advice or help or a firm slap upside the head or something, when he froze. _Who the fuck am I going to call?_

Finn would probably break Puck's jaw for deflowering his 'innocent little brother'. Santana would do her jealous-bitch shtick and probably have Kurt killed, or worse, l_augh at Puck_. Quinn - just no. There are somethings you don't discuss with your ex-girlfriend/baby momma no matter how good things are between you and gay crushes was one of them. Sam - would totally tell Quinn. Artie...

Puck looked thoughtfully at his phone. Of every one he knew, Artie was probably his best bet. They were kind of cool; he stopped Azimio from pushing Wheels down the stairs a week ago, and in return Artie had helped him get a passing grade on his history test. They weren't really tight but they were fellow gleeks and kind of friends; that would do. Artie was pretty cool for a total nerd, and if Puck begged (like, _a lot_) he probably wouldn't tell anyone. Yeah, he would call Artie. Artie could help him realise that just because Kurt was hot and funny and awesome and liked Super Mario, he wasn't worth giving up his Player Card for.

He made the call, lying back on his bed and trying to ignore the faint smell of Kurt on his sheets from two days before. When the line picked up he opened his mouth the blurt out, "I'm totally crushing on Kurt!" before his courage left him, but it turned into an embarrassing squeak when a different voice answered.

"Hey, Artie's phone!"

"Mercedes, why are you answering Artie's phone?" Puck shouted in frustration, flinging the nearest pillow at the wall ineffectually. The voice became disgusted.

"Watch your tone, Puckerman. Just 'cause I'm a lady don't mean I won't bust yo' ass for talking to me like that. Me, Artie and Tina are watching a movie, he's in the bathroom. He could be a while, you want me to take a message?"

"No, just forget it," Puck hung the phone up and sighed, letting his head fall back against the bed. _Fuck my life. I need to talk to someone!...I want to talk about my feelings. _I _want to _talk _about my _feelings_. I am _seriously _turning into a _woman_._

He toyed with the idea of calling Mike, but he would probably tell Tina, who'd tell Mercedes, who'd tell _everyone_. He and Brittany were on good terms but she wouldn't understand that she wasn't meant to tell anyone. Telling Rachel would be the worst idea ever for a number of reasons, the most important was which being she was freaking RACHEL. _FUCK. MY. LIFE!_

He hopped off his bed and wandered over to his computer. A few hours of porn will get this shit off of my brain.

* * *

Puck's first thought when he woke up the next day was _Okay, seriously, fuck my life_.

Every dream he'd had, every _single _one, had involved Kurt in some way. Not just in sexy ways, taking the places of the various hot chicks (and, yeah, dudes. He was bisexual, he could accept that now) in the pornos he'd watched the night before - which was totally cool with Puck, by the way - but in creepy, _sappy _ways. Like, he dreamed about them cuddling. CUDDLING. Puck didn't cuddle. Ever ever ever _ever_. Not even if it got him laid. He had a strict 'No Cuddling' policy. The closest he had ever come to cuddling was letting his sister sit on his lap when they watched scary movies and after sex with Kurt and they were too worn out to move off of one another. K_urt fits against me really well when we do thatHOLY CRAP NO._

He felt simultaneously hyperactive and numb. He pulled his clothes on with manic energy but felt like his head was underwater. _I want a relationship. Hand-holding. Cuddling. I'm turning into a chick! ...When do I get the fun bits?_

He kissed Sarah on the cheek as she ran out the door to her bus, and slid into his car. _I've got to stop thinking about this. Kurt's just a friend, a 'friends-with-benefits' more could I want? I don't _do _dating. I _got _to stop thinking about this._

He drove to school in a daze, completely ignoring the usual array of terrified geeks and flirty Cheerios that would have caught his eye. He actually _got his math book out of his locker and went to math class_. He hadn't been to math class in literally _years_. His teacher _didn't recognise him_. Ignoring the whispers and stares of his gobsmacked classmates, Puck focused all his energy into listening to the teacher and actually learning - _what the hell is happening to me?_ - anything to keep him from thinking about chick-shit, like whether Kurt's eyes were blue or green - _this is not happening _- or whether he'd like roses or... some other type of flower, (Puck didn't know any others. _Daisies? Do they still have those? Why am I thinking about this?)_. It was like he'd entered the Twilight Zone. Yesterday, Kurt was an awesome-friend-with-awesome-benefits. Now, Puck was losing his mind over flowers. _Flowers_. It was all Super Marios fault!

He strode to History the second the bell went, making it to class in record time. He wanted to stay out of the hallways; he didn't want to run into Kurt before he could be sure he didn't say something stupid. He took notes on the Russian Revolution with gusto; his teacher stared at him the whole lesson with wide eyes. Mike was in his class, and threw him a note asking if he was okay. He through one back that just said, "FINE," and he could hear Mike whispering to Tina. The words, "Weird as hell," and "Sign of the Apocalypse" were used. He just concentrated on the difference between Chinese and Russian Communism and died a little inside.

In English, he read the book over Rachel's shoulder, not having one of his own. She looked at him like he was a crazy person, which seemed a little harsh considering she was wearing a dress that had baubles on it. _Honest to God _baubles_, even sex-happy Kurt would rip her apart if he was here._

He didn't manage to avoid the Gleeks between classes, due to their psychotic efforts to talk to him. By the end of third period it seemed that a 'gleemergency' text (blame Rachel for the name - and for the intricate code that went with the system) had gone around to inform everyone of his wildly out-of-character behavior, and everyone wanted to ask him what was wrong. Mercedes and Tina cornered him after English and offered slightly suspicious support. Finn had awkwardly patted him on the shoulder and offered a shoulder to cry on (for which he was given a scathing glare and a disbelieving, "Seriously, dude, what the fuck?"). Quinn (hand in hand with Sam) had made to walk over to him with worry in her eyes, but Puck had struck up a frantic conversation with his passing History teacher about extra reading - something he knew he'd regret but right now was a live saver. It was like the universe was laughing at him; all he wanted to do was stop thinking about the fact that he had completely lost his mind, and everyone he knew was conspiring to get him to think about it. At least he hadn't seen Kurt.

That was, at least, until he thanked God for that fact right before Spanish. He was almost, _almost _through the door when he heard Kurt call his name. He froze, then cursed himself - he'd managed to keep walking when he heard both Artie and Santana calling him, but one syllable from Kurt and he was obeying like a bitch. _I'm so screwed_. Puck turned around, trying to scowl. Kurt looked up at him with concerned blue-green eyes and raised an eyebrow.

"Word is that Noah Puckerman has been replaced by a pod-person," the countertenor's words were flippant, but Puck knew him well enough to see the worry behind the smirk. "The kind that listens to teachers and takes notes and turns up to math. I didn't believe it, but you're actually rushing into Spanish before Mr Schuester is there. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Puck sulked. He couldn't meet Kurt's eyes, certain he was going to say something stupid like_ You look nice today_ or _I want to have your gay babies_. "I just want to actually pass something this year. Is it a crime?"

"Of course not," Kurt's voice was patronising, and a quick glance at his face let Puck know that he was annoyed. "But you're Puck. You don't care about school. You don't care about anything."

"I care about -" _You _"- stuff. I just can't be fucked usually," Puck rocked back onto his heels, looking down the hallway for Mr Schuester. _C'mon, man, rescue me before I compliment his shoes or some shit._

"But you suddenly care now? Puck, what's up?" Kurt dropped the haughty pretence, placing a small, soft hand on Puck's bare arm. The touch sent a spark up Puck's whole body, and he looked up into the eyes of his unintentional tormentor. Kurt seemed to mistake Puck's repressed urge to kiss as discomfort, because he let his hand fall away. _Don't kiss him, don't kiss him, don't kiss him..._

"We're friends, aren't we? If something is up you can talk to me. I won't even tell Mercedes."

_Don't kiss him, don't kiss him, don't kiss him..._

"Yeah, we're friends, princess. There's just nothing to tell. I'm just having a bad day, is all-"_because I'm not holding your hand, and because I'm apparently growing a uterus_ "- so don't worry. I'm good."

Kurt looked utterly unconvinced, "You went to math class, Puck. That's kind of a warning sign. It would be like me wearing clothes from Wal-Mart or Finn quoting Shakespeare. You'd know something was up."

"Yeah, but I'd drop it if you asked me to," Puck snapped, rubbing his face. There was a long pause.

"Okay," Kurt said simply. Puck's head shot up. He still looked concerned, but the pale boy was nodding. "I'm not going to force you. But promise me that if it gets really bad you'll talk to someone? Before you do something crazy like join the Chess Club."

"Dude, if I try to join the Chess Club you have my permission to shoot me," Puck grinned. Kurt gave a warm smile back.

"Don't call me dude, but can do. See you at lunch?"

"Yeah, princess, see you."

So Kurt walked away and Puck hadn't kissed him and the fact that that felt like an accomplishment probably wasn't a good thing. _So. Freaking. __**Screwed**__._

He worked like a crazy person in Spanish, asking questions and taking more notes then he could ever remember taking in his life. He tried to fill his head with verbs and nouns (even though he didn't know which was which) and tenses (_what the crap is a tense anyway?_) and everything, anything to distract him from his..._feelings_.

_What kind of stud has feelings? A terrible one, that's who._

When the class was over, Puck froze in his chair, _Oh shit, I told Kurt I'd see him at lunch. I got to do something!_

He leaped out of his chair, sweeping his books into his arms and barrelling down the front. Mr Schuester was staring at him with that same dumbfounded and worried expression that had been bothering him all day. Puck ignored it, words tumbling out of him as the class trailed out the door.

"Hey, Mr Schue, I'm not sure I get this, like, gender specific 'el' and 'la' and stuff. Is there, like a way to remember it or is it random?" he blurted out the first Spanish related thing that came to mind. Mr Schuester looked at him for a moment. While he answered slowly he walked around his desk, shutting the door of the classroom and making Puck intensely nervous.

"Well, I'd be more than happy to help you with that, Puck, " *click* the door shut and Puck cringed, "But right now I'm more interested in talking about you."

"Oh, shit, they texted you too," Puck groaned, dumping his books on the teacher's desk. Mr Schuester walked back over to him, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. Puck looked at him with a grimace as he read the messages.

"'Gleemergency, Code Otter. Puck is in math class. Enquire ASAP.' 'Gleemergency, Code Ocelot. Puck is paying attention in history. Saying he's fine. Lying. Requires attention.' 'Gleemergency, Code Falcon. Puck asked for extra reading. Presume dying. SOS.'"

"I swear they just make up these code names as they go."

"I'm inclined to agree with you after the one Kurt just sent; 'Gleemergency, Code-Calm-Down-You-Idiots-He's-Not-Dying. Give him some space, he'll talk when he's ready to'" Mr Schuester lowered his phone and looked Puck in the eye. "I'll admit, Puck, while this behaviour isn't a bad thing, it is unusual for you. Your friends seem pretty convinced something is wrong. If there's anything you need to talk about, anything at all, I'm more than happy to listen. I won't tell anyone."

"I'm going nuts!" Puck nearly shouted, surprising himself. Mr Schuester actually jumped a little. Puck's mouth went into overdrive, the hours of stress shattering his brain to mouth filter in a most spectacular way. He continued involuntarily, not even pausing to breathe, "I swear I'm turning into a woman! A sissy! A queer! And not even in a good way! I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me, I have the best thing ever and I want to ruin it by adding all these stupid things and it's like I don't even know myself anymore! I'm losing my badassness, Mr Schue! _My badassness_! What-"

"Okay, take a breath," Mr Schuester interrupted, raising a hand. Puck gasped a little, slumping against Mr Schuester's desk with a little groan. The teacher stood in front of him, face hopelessly confused. "You're going to have to give me the full story, I think. Slowly."

Puck couldn't help but grin a little, "You sure you want the whole story? This is me we're talking about."

Mr Schuester winced, "Okay, maybe the PG-13 version of the whole story that doesn't make me the accessory to a felony. Can that work?"

"Yeah," Puck sighed. _Man, where do I start..._ "Okay, so I started up this wicked friends-with-benefits arrangement with a friend of mine. It's awesome. We hang out, we have, like, the best sex _ever_, but we're not dating. We're friends, we do it, but we don't have to do all the relationship stuff. It's the greatest thing ever."

"That does sound like your type of thing," Mr Schuester agreed wryly. "So what's the problem?"

Puck took a deep breath, "I think I kind of want more than that. And that's stupid."

He looked up at Mr Schuester with wide-eyes, "I have literally the greatest relationship ever, and I want to fuck - sorry - mess it up by adding all the bullshit - sorry, Mr Schue, force of habit - by adding all the stuff that I hate about relationships. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Mr Schuester nodded slowly, "I see. Puck, I don't think there's anything wrong with you. You have feelings for someone, that's totally normal."

"Not for me!" Puck stood up, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm a stud, dude. I can't be tied down like that. In the past I've, you know, dated girls to get in their pants but I've always just been doing what they want so they'd give me what I want but now I want all that stupid, sappy shit and oh God."

He looked at Mr Schuester with wide eyes, "This is Divine retribution, isn't it? Like, karma or something, for being a sex shark for so long."

"I doubt that," Mr Schuester laughed a little, putting a comforting hand on Puck's shoulder. "Okay, you want a relationship with this person. Just having your physical needs met isn't enough anymore. That's not a bad thing, Puck. It just means you're growing up."

Puck felt himself pout a little, "But...but... strings-free-sex!"

Mr Schuester laughed again, "I know, I know. You have exactly what every 17-year-old boy wants right now. But if you want more, then you want more. It doesn't make you any less of a tough guy. It doesn't mean you're turning into a woman."

Puck snorted, "I want to cuddle. _Cuddle_. I'm just waiting for my uterus to grow."

Mr Schuester smiled at him, "I think it's great. You've met someone that is challenging you to push your boundaries and go out of your comfort zone. She must be something."

Puck paused. Kurt flashed into his mind; eyes dark with lust as they fucked, hair messy and sticking to his face; impeccably dressed and coiffed, sitting on Puck's couch with Sarah, braiding her hair; shooting him a heated glance in Glee while Rachel ranted, shooting off a quip without having to think about it, "Something doesn't begin to cover it."

Mr Schuester smiled, "That's fantastic. Are you going to go for it? Do you think she might feel the same?"

Puck's smile faded, "I don't know. I'll think about it. I seriously don't want to fuck this up, Mr Schue."

"I know," Mr Schuester didn't even pick him up for swearing. "Think about this; would you regret it more if you asked and she said no, or if you didn't and someone else got her first?"

Puck imagined watching Kurt wander down the hallways on someone else's arm. _I am going to punch that theoretical man in the face_. "Yeah, the second one, definitely."

"So go for it!" Mr Schuester smiled. "Find the right moment and ask her on a proper date. Shall I let you go to lunch now?"

Puck froze. Mr Schuester smiled, "Or should I keep you in here a while longer so you don't have to face her right now?"

"That one, please."

"Okay. So! 'El' and 'la'..."'

* * *

Puck felt better for the rest of the day. Okay, so it was weird that he actually wanted to date Kurt, but he was Puckasaurus! He got what he wanted. He wanted Kurt, therefore he would get Kurt. Anyone who wanted to fuck with him about that could be introduced to his fists at high velocity. He blew off his last class in favour of working out his plan of attack; by midnight tonight, Kurt Hummel would be his.

His first move was apologising to Kurt for not seeing him at lunch. He shot off a text on his way out the door, "Srry wsn't thr at lnch. w/ mr shu. cum ovr 2nite?"

The response was fast and perfect, "Grammar and vowels are your friend, Puck. I'll be over at 4.30."

_Bitchin_'

The plan was genius; his mom would be at work, so he'd send Sarah to a friend's place for the night. When Kurt walked through his front door, Puckzilla would provide him with the orgasm of his life. When Kurt was appropriately boneless, Puck would tell him that they were dating now. Dating would commence. Okay, it wasn't a complicated plan, but it was still perfect. _I'm a genius! Forget midnight, Kurt will be my boyfriend - holy crap that sounds weird - by 5 PM. Rock._

The plan would have gone perfectly too, if not for Super Mario Brothers.

Sarah was safetly at Mandy's. Mom was safetly at work. The house was clean enough that Kurt wouldn't do that wrinkling his nose thing that meant Puck wasn't getting any until the house no longer smelt like Cheetos and Pizza. And Puck still had half an hour until Kurt arrived. So he popped Super Mario in, figured he'd get some play in before Kurt got here. It wasn't his fault that Super Mario had never before seem game play that was still fresh and addictive even so long after it's release date, immersing him so effectively that he forgot the time and he had no idea how Kurt had gotten in his house but he was watching Puck play with rapt attention and it was dark outside. Puck froze when he finally noticed him, his character freezing on screen. Kurt glanced over at him then shot his gaze back at the screen, looking a little embarrassed. He cleared his throat.

"The door was unlocked, and I could hear the game. I figured you'd gotten sidetracked," he explained, straightening his fringe. His bag was on it's side on the floor, and his coat was thrown haphazardly across the back of a chair. He'd clearly been their a while. Puck blinked.

"How long have you been here?" Puck blurted out, looking at Kurt with wide eyes. Kurt blushed a little.

"Nearly two hours," he sniffed, but the red stain on his cheeks gave away that he was less than upset. The pale boy looked at his nails coolly. "You completely ignored me."

"You could have said something," Puck cursed internally, setting down the controller on the coffee table. This was not according to plan. Kurt shrugged a little, and smiled a sweet, hesitant smile.

"I liked watching you play. I love this game."

Plans flew out of Puck's head. He couldn't think about seduction or badassness or being manly or anything. All he could thing was _sexy funny smart hot bitchy stubborn beautiful brave LOVES SUPERMARIO -_

"Date me."

The room seemed to froze. Kurt's eyes flew up to meet his and stayed there, wide and shocked. Both of them were shell shocked by the demand. There was a long pause, broken by the sound of him dying on screen. Kurt recovered first, looking away from Puck. His mouth was set in a hard line, but there was curiosity in his eyes.

"You said that you wanted casual fun," he bit out, folding his arms defensively. "That's what we agreed to. No commitment, no monogamy, no -"

"I know, I know that," Puck interrupted, grabbing Kurt's hand impulsively. Kurt's head snapped to face him again, expression hard. "I know we have an amazing thing going here, what with the great sex and just being friends and stuff but I really like you, Kurt."

Kurt snorted, trying to pull his hand away, "Are you telling me that you, Noah Puckerman, man-whore sex-shark extraordinaire, want to give up easy, strings-free sex in return for an actual, honest-to-God, work for it and work it out relationship?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Kurt demanded, standing up and putting his hands on his hips. "What is it that you want, Puck? Because I'm sorry, this just isn't computing. You have all of the good parts of a relationship without any of the mushy, sappy crap that goes with it-"

"I want that crap with you," Puck interrupted again, looking up at Kurt, trying to convey with his eyes how completely, _pathetically _sincere he was. "I don't know why. All I know is that I want to do all that shit I hate with you. I want to hold your hand in the halls, and sing with you in Glee, and go out to dinner with you. I hate all that shit, I really, really hate it, I use it to get into the panties of chicks who won't put out otherwise but I want it with you."

There was another pause. The beeping music of Super Mario Brothers was beginning to make Puck crazy when Kurt spoke, "I don't understand."

His voice was soft now, and when Puck looked up there where tears in his blue-green eyes, "I don't get you, Puck. I understood when you just wanted sex but now you say you actually like me? Why?"

"Because you're hot, and funny, and smart, and you like Super Mario Brothers," Puck said automatically. He hesitantly wrapped a hand around Kurt's thigh, which was at his eye level, and pulled the boy closer. He slid his hands up around Kurt's waist and gently pulled him down onto Puck's lap. "Man, I don't get it either. I freaked out on Mr Schu today, he said something about growing up but I still think I'm turning into a women. Just - please give me a shot? I could be a good boyfriend - shit, that still sounds weird to me - but I want to try."

Puck knew he was begging, but he didn't care. He could tell Kurt was wavering and he wanted this so much that he would beg until his throat bled if he had to. _I am in way over my head._

Kurt sighed, and let his head fall back, "Well, it won't be the stupidest thing I've ever done."

Puck grinned, "That's a yes?"

"That's a yes. Let's see what you got, boyfriend."

Puck pulled Kurt down into a hard kiss, smiling into the smaller boy's mouth. Kurt shifted so he was straddling Puck's lap, a favourite position of both of theirs. As their lips slid together tongues lazily traced patterns against the other, slow and languid. Puck's hands rested on Kurt's bony hips, his thumbs caressing the skin above the boy's tight jeans. Kurt hands were wrapped loosely around Puck's shoulders, their weight comforting and comfortable. There was none of the urgency of their usual coupling. This didn't have to lead to anything if they didn't want it to (though they both did). It was the kiss of lovers, not fuck-buddies; relaxed, sensual, personal. They actually _explored _one another for the first time, taking the time to map out what was theirs, instead of whatever bliss they could borrow. Kurt pulled away first, breathing heavily into Puck's ear.

"You know, as fun as this has been, I believe you still owe me for ignoring me in favour of video games for two hours," Kurt murmured, pressing hot lips to Puck's skin slowly. Puck smirked into his throat.

"I probably do. What did you have in mind, princess?"

"I finally managed to get my hands on those handcuffs, and my dad isn't expecting me home tonight. I'm 'at Mercedes''."

Puck stood up in one movement, managing to pick Kurt up with him, "To bed!"

Kurt laughed and grabbed his bag as Puck half-carried, half-dragged him towards his bedroom. Once there, clothes were thrown off with abandon. Puck felt light, happy, free... and as a gloriously naked Kurt bent down and pulled a pair of purple fuzzy hand cuffs out of his bag, he felt something else entirely.

"Lie on the bed," Kurt said softly, dangling the handcuffs on one finger. Smirking, Puck sat on the bed, dragging himself so his head was on the pillow and his arms were stretched above his head. Kurt smiled approvingly, crawling up and fastening the handcuff around Puck's wrists and bedhead.

"Now," he murmured, stroking Puck's forearms gently. "Let's see what it is that I've claimed today."

"A fine specimen indeed," Puck drawled. Those soft hands trailed down his arms, rubbing at the muscles and hot skin, leaving no inch un-felt. "I'm top quality stud."

"Perhaps," Kurt purred, moving to straddle Puck's waist. He continued his almost-massage of Puck's arms, rubbing slowly and sensually. "I _do _like what I'm feeling here."

"You'd better," Puck smirked. "A lot of work goes into these guns."

He flexed his arms as well as he could with them trapped above his head. Kurt giggled a little, "Mmm, very nice. But how do they taste?"

Puck gave a happy "mmm" when Kurt's hot tongue licked a slow strip up his bicep. _Fuck I love that tongue._ Little kittenish licks were placed on the twitching muscles, followed by soft kisses. Puck's hips shifted a little on their own and Kurt pulled back.

"Alright, the arms pass the boyfriend-test," he confirmed, sliding his hands down Puck's arms to his shoulders. "Now, the torso!"

"You're going to tease me for hours, aren't you?" Puck grinned, his hard cock brushing against Kurt's ass as the boy slid down Puck's torso. Kurt pressed a heated kiss against Puck's mouth.

"If we're dating, I want to be sure that I'm not getting defective goods," Kurt teased, nipping Puck's lower lip. His hands slid down Puck's solid chest, tweaking a nipple and rubbing firmly. "Certainly feels good so far."

"Take your time," Puck smirked, pushing his head up to suck briefly on the exposed neck in front of him. He sighed when those hot hands moved off of his chest, groaning a little when his piercing was tugged. "Fuck, that's good. Do that again."

"I'll do what ever I want to," Kurt admonished him, biting down on his collarbone. He slid so he was half lying on Puck, pressing hot kissing to his collarbone and throat, completely ignoring Puck's increasingly sensitive nipples. Puck's breathing got louder as Kurt massaged and caressed his chest and abs, licking and nipping along the way, forever ignoring Puck's increasingly leaking cock. Puck forgot about everything, completely focused on the alternating heat and cool where Kurt would suck and then blow on his chest, on the sharp pain being overridden by pleasure as Kurt bit down on an increasingly swollen nipple, the frustrating lack of contact where he needed it most...

"Okay, babe, you've had your fun. You just gonna tease me or what?" Puck ground out, bucking his hips into the air helplessly. Kurt giggled, sliding down Puck's body more until he was leaning across Puck's thighs. He leaned down and flicked his tongue into Puck's belly button.

"Do you remember," he whispered throatily, looking up at Puck with lidded eyes as he trailed his mouth lower. His swollen lips latched onto the crease of Puck's thigh, moving away when Puck tried to rut against him. "That first time? When all I wanted was for you to fuck me, but you teased and teased and _teased _instead?"

Puck gasped when, with every 'teased', Kurt's tongue flicked out and licked the head of his cock. He groaned, "Why do I get the feeling I'm about to regret that?"

"Because you are," Kurt smirked, grasping the base of Puck's cock tightly and holding down the other boy's hips with his other hand. "You have to tell me what you want, Noah. Tell me, and convince me you deserve it. Beg me to get you off. Until then, I'm just going to hold you nice and tight here," he gave the base a tighter squeeze," and just give you a little lick," he licked Puck's slit greedily, "every now and again. You want to get off? Talk me into it."

"Shit!" Puck hissed, trying and failing to buck his hips out of Kurt's surprisingly strong grip. He gasped when he felt another lick, every nerve in his body tensed and hypersensitive with anticipation. "Fuck, Kurt-"

"Tell me what you want." Lick.

"I want you to suck me off," Puck groaned, straining against the handcuffs as Kurt sucked a little on the shaft and pulled away again. "C'mon, princess, you love sucking cock. You love the way I taste, you've said so. C'mon, suck me off. Sink that pretty little mouth down. Kurt, _please_."

"That's better," Kurt dropped his head down, sucking on the head firmly. Puck tried to push further into that wet heat, but Kurt pulled away again. "I didn't tell you to stop talking, now, did I?"

Puck moaned, 'Fuck, Kurt, keep sucking it! I want you to suck me off, please..."

Kurt returned to Puck's cock while he talked, lowering the hot, wet suction down Puck's length. His mouth stretched around the length, lips full and wide as he slid Puck into his throat. All the while, Puck kept talking, terrified that if he stopped, so would the feeling of heat enveloping him, "Holy hell, _more_, please Kurt, keep sucking just like that. Please babe, you're so, s_o good _at that, I want more, fuck, so hot, so _hot_. Oh god, right there, again, please, yes..."

Kurt started moaning around Puck's dick, making Puck's eyes fly open and forcing an embarrassingly high moan out of his mouth. He looked down at Kurt, and the sight of that red mouth stretched around him would have made him come right then if Kurt didn't have a vaguely painful grip on the base of Puck's cock. Even that almost didn't work when Puck noticed the reason for Kurt's moaning; the boy's pale arm was twisted behind him, working three slender fingers into his own hole.

"Fuck, _Kurt_, you gonna ride me?" Puck gasped, bucking his hips. Kurt pulled his mouth off of Puck's cock with an audible pop.

"That's the plan," he purred, his voice husky from the abuse his throat had been taking. _Thank God for that boy's lack of gag reflex. _"What do you think, Noah? Should I let you fuck me?"

"Babe, _please_, you know I'll make it good, just _please-_"

"You'd better not come right away," Kurt warned him, sitting up and lining Puck's weeping cock with his stretched hole. "I expect the ride of my life, understand?"

"Yes," Puck hissed, cold metal cutting into his wrists as he strained to close the space between them. "Just do it, _come on_-"

His pleading cut into a throaty groan when Kurt suddenly impaled himself, letting out a wail as Puck filled him. Puck's hips bucked up to meet the smaller boy, loving the heat and the tightness and -

"_Mine_," he growled as Kurt started to ride him in earnest, slender, muscular thighs working overtime. Kurt looked down at him with dark eyes.

"Yours," Kurt agreed, leaning down and trapping Puck's mouth in a sizzling kiss as his body continued to rock. He suddenly bit down on Puck's lower lip, hissing. "Mine."

"Fuck yes," Puck groaned as Kurt picked up speed, thrusting to meet him. "I'm sure as fuck not _sharing_."

Then they were frantic, thrusting and rocking and _heat and tight and_ -

It was impossible to work out who had screamed what as they came together, Kurt's clenching setting off Puck's orgasm a split second later. Kurt slumped against Puck's chest bonelessly as they caught their breath. For a moment, the only sound was their breathing... and the faint tinkling of the Super Mario Brothers theme song in the background. _God damn it, I forgot to turn that off..._

Puck put the game out of his mind and turned it to the boy slumped across his chest, "Hey, babe, can you unshackle me now? I can't hold you like this."

Kurt looked up at him, eyes wide. He gentle traced Puck's lips with a shaking hand, and he hid a trace of vulnerability with a snarky tone, "Wow, you must be serious about this if you're willing to cuddle."

"Tell anyone and I'll deny it," Puck warned him. Kurt reached up and unclicked the handcuffs. _Wait, they weren't locked? Damn it! _Puck automatically slid his arms around Kurt, pulling the sweaty, sticky boy against him with a contented sigh. _If this is what being a woman is like, I can live with that. _

Kurt slid his sweaty arm around Puck's waist, head against the taller boy's shoulder, "This is...nice."

"Yeah," Puck agreed, running his fingers through Kurt's hair gently. "It is."

They dozed off to the sound of one another's heartbeats, and the beeping of Super Marios. Kurt giggled.

"I'm never going to be able to hear this song without getting hard again," he murmured as he drifted off. Puck smirked. He would have to add the game to the shrine he had to his shoelaces, tucked in the way in the back of his closet. It was all its fault he was falling asleep with his boyfriend in his arms.


	3. The Flu

A/N: Sorry for the time this took to upload. I managed to get RSI in both hands and had to rest them completely for two weeks. Sadly, it meant my momentum for this story kind of ran out BUT! We have an ending. This final chapter is way more fluff than smut and humor, and it's a little shorter, but it seems to have come full circle. The ending is a little rushed, I know, but it seemed natural. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, it meant a helluva lot to me. Hell, without you guys this would have stayed as a one shot. I'm glad it didn't, I like where it's gone. I have a few other stories in the works, mostly shamefully kinky Klaine fics and a few angsty Kurt pieces. Let me know in reviews what you'd like to see! I'm happy to take requests and suggestions. You guys rock!

Also, to all those who pointed out my Spanish fail in the last chapter, thank you. In my defence, I studied Italian for four years but have never heard anyone speak Spanish; in fact, I don't think I've ever known anyone who spoke it at all. Still, it was a research fail, and mea culpa. I'll be fixing it tonight.

This is it, folks. Hope you enjoy it, and constructive criticism is always welcome (just don't be a dick about it!)

* * *

Puck would forever blame his falling in love with Kurt on the flu. If Sarah hadn't gotten sick with it, he never would have found himself unable to live without him.

Okay, that was probably understating the situation again. Sarah getting sick made Puck _realise _he was in love with Kurt, but _Kurt _was why he was in love with Kurt. If Puck was honest with himself (But really, when was he ever honest?) he'd been falling for Kurt from the day the countertenor had rocked his world then asked if it was okay, and falling fast since that first day they'd walked into school hand in hand.

Kurt had offered him an out after round four at about 4 o'clock in the morning after Puck had asked to be his boyfriend. They'd been lying together (cuddling, though Puck would deny it if asked) in the dark, sticky and sated, when Kurt's voice ended the afterglow.

"This could ruin your life, you know."

Puck looked towards the soft voice. There was a moonbeam coming through the hole in the curtains, and it hit Kurt's porcelain white back and made him glow, like an angel or a radioactive ballet dancer or something. Kurt was lying on his stomach at Puck's side, tracing patterns on Puck's chest idly. Puck tightened an arm around Kurt's narrow waist as the boy continued gently.

"There would be no going back after admitting to be dating me. They'll treat you like they treat me; slushies, dumpsters, attacks... you will never be safe at that school again. They'll probably get worse with me too, thinking I 'turned you gay.' They'll make your life a living hell if you're with me, Puck."

"Are you questioning my badassness?" Puck interrupted, looking down at the top of Kurt's head where it rested on his shoulder. "I know you've seen my guns."

Puck could sense the eye-roll, "You know what I mean. You can't just beat up everyone who looks at you funny, you'll get expelled. "

"I'm Puckasaraus. I'm top dog. It'll be fine."

"They ostracised you for shaving your mohawk, don't you think dating a guy is going to be a slightly bigger deal?" Kurt looked up. Even in the faint light Puck could see the challenge in his eyes. "You come out as my boyfriend and you can say goodbye to your rep, Puckerman. From here on in, the people who feared you will be laughing at you, and the people who liked you will hate you. It's not easy being the school pariah. I would know."

Puck huffed, "You trying to talk me out of this or something? I want you, Kurt. And what I want, I get. I don't what being the school piranha means or whatever, but we'll work it out. You saying you don't want this?"

"I want this," Kurt confirmed. "I just don't think you know what you're getting yourself into ."

Kurt paused to let that sink in, resting his head on Puck's shoulder again. When he spoke again, it was in a tiny whisper that Puck had to strain to hear, "I just don't want you hating me for how you'll be treated."

"I won't hate you," Puck grumbled, pulling Kurt closer. "Don't be a fucking idiot. That's my job."

Kurt snorted, "I'm just saying, I would be willing to make this a secret thing. We could still be together, and you could keep your rep. Think about it."

Puck stared at the top of Kurt's head, mind whirring. _Keep my rep and Kurt in secret, at nights. Can't touch him in public. Can't brag about his mad skills. Tell people. No more respect. Slushies. Dumpsters. Bottom of the heap. Kurt on my arm._

"We're walking into that school tomorrow hand in hand," Puck growled, tugging Kurt so he was lying directly on top of him. "I want everyone to know you're mine."

Kurt stared at him, then smiled, "If it goes to shit, I'm blaming you."

"Fair enough."

Then round five commenced.

They were late to school the next day, round seven having occurred in the shower and round nine in the parking lot. They had an early Glee rehearsal, so the school was mostly empty as they strode through the corridors, hands clasped defiantly. Puck pushed the choir room door open for Kurt, who shot him a wicked smile as he brushed past.

"So sorry we're late, Mr Schuester," Kurt chirped as he made his way across the room, Puck sliding along next to him with a smirk. "We had a bit of an interrupted morning."

"Try not to let it happen again, guys, Sectionals..."Mr Schuester's voice trailed off and his mouth dropped open as Puck flopped into his seat and pulled Kurt onto his lap, sliding his arms around the well-dressed boy's waist. There were a few shocked exclamations from all around the room, but Kurt just perched primly and looked at Mr Schuester expectantly, hands folded over Puck's on his stomach.

"So what are we talking about?" He asked brightly, his voice so innocent that Puck had to stifle his laughter into Kurt's fuzzy green and grey sweater.

"We're talking about what the hell you're doing on Puck's lap!" Finn yelped, standing. Kurt raised an eyebrow up at him.

"Why shouldn't I sit on my boyfriend's lap?" he asked archly, looked down at his nails. Puck smirked at Finn over Kurt's shoulder, loving the look of dumbfounded rage on Frankenteen's face. "Brittany is sitting on Artie."

"But - you're not - he's not-!" Finn spluttered, pointing back and forth between them with an expression like they'd just sucker punched a kitten. Kurt rolled his eyes and tossed his head dismissively.

"Yes, we are. Yes, he is. Seriously, we're going to be getting enough crap from general student populace, can we get a little support in here?"

As Finn continued to splutter, the rest of the room reacted. Mr Schuester's eyes lit up with understanding, and he absorbed the information with no more than a momentarily shocked, 'Alrighty-then' expression and a proud smile at Puck. Rachel started to reassure them that she was fully supportive of both the relationship and Puck's new-found sexuality and continued to do so for nearly twenty minutes. Quinn shot Puck a confused but accepting smile, and Sam just shrugged and said, "That's good for you, I guess," a sentiment which both Artie and Mike backed up with easy grins. Santana looked caught between laughing at Puck and glaring at Kurt, and Brittany and Tina were giggling about how cute they were. Puck risked a glance at Mercedes. Much to his surprise, she was just smirking.

"Hey Aretha, how come you're not pissed that you didn't know?" Puck ignored the elbow he got in the side from Kurt. Mercedes just shook her head and gave him a pitying look.

"You really think I haven't known since day one? My boy tells me everything," she blew Kurt a kiss, which he returned. Finn started choking again.

"Wait, what? How long has this been going on for?" he demanded, standing over Kurt and Puck, neither of whom looked at him. Mercedes gave him a droll look.

"If it were any of yo' damn business, you'd know already," she dismissed him, looking back at Kurt and shooting him a thumbs up. "You boys ready for the Hallway Mafia to blacklist you?"

Puck pressed a gentle kiss to Kurt's cheek as the pale boy answered for both of them, "_Bring_ _it_."

Maybe Puck should have guessed that this wasn't going to be a passing fling when - after a day of being shoved into lockers, called a fag by everyone wearing a letterman's jacket and then some, and having his locker graffitied with the word, "Cocksucker" (Kurt had pulled out a Sharpie and quickly edited it so it read, "EXCELLENT Cocksucker") - all it took was a brief kiss on the cheek from Kurt before he went to History and it was all totally worth it. The Gleeks stood by them anyway, doing their best to not allow either of them to go anywhere alone. Mr Schuester even gave Azimio detention when he knocked Kurt down, giving Puck a supportive pat on the shoulder as they walked passed.

Or maybe he should have guessed when he'd gotten a frantic call from Kurt that evening, saying that Finn had told Burt Hummel about them and the man wanted to talk to Puck, and rather than getting on the next bus to Mexico Puck arranged to come over for dinner. He'd never gone to those lengths for a girl, not even Quinn. And Burt Hummel? Way scarier than any other father of anyone he'd been doing.

When Puck had gotten there (dressed in a button up shirt he'd borrowed from Sam and his only pair of jeans without a hole in them) it had been Burt Hummel that had opened the door. He was holding a shotgun and a cleaning rag and looking at Puck like he'd just desecrated his mother's tombstone. Puck just took a deep breath and tried to smile.

"Hey, Mr Hummel. I'm Pu- uh, Noah Puckerman," he held out his hand, but Mr Hummel ignored it in favour of trying to set Puck on fire with his eyes. After an awkward pause, Puck lowered his hand.

"Dad, be nice," Kurt's exasperated voice floated over the top of Burt's head, and the shotgun-wielding mechanic was gently moved aside by a fabulously dressed Kurt. The slender boy gave Puck an apologetic look before pressing a defiant kiss on Puck's mouth. Puck responded automatically, slipping his arm around Kurt's waist and pulling him close. It was relatively chaste, just a greeting, but Puck could swear he heard Burt growl. Kurt pulled away reluctantly, grabbing Puck's hand and facing his dad with a hard look. "Dad, this is my boyfriend, Puck. Put the shotgun away."

"I don't think that helped my case, dude," Puck muttered out of the corner of his mouth as Burt stomped away. Kurt rolled his eyes.

"He's just got to get used to it. I'll be 17 in a month, it's normal for me to be dating. And don't call me dude."

"Sorry, princess," Puck slipped his arms back around Kurt's waist and pressed a kiss to his temple. It felt as stupid as shit to do, but at the same time...comforting. And the way Kurt melted against him was kinda nice too. They stood in the doorway like that for a moment, before Kurt pulled away with a cheerful, "Right!"

He faced Puck, "You ready to face the combined Hummel-Hudson clan? There's still time to head for Mexico."

Puck grinned as Kurt unknowingly mimicked his own thoughts, "Lead the way, princess. I was promised free food."

They walked into the kitchen hand in hand, and it was about a thousand times more nerve wracking than walking down McKinley's corridors. The shotgun was sitting on a side table, gleaming. Burt, Carole, and Finn sat around the table silently, Burt furious, Carole worried, Finn suspicious. The table was neatly and stylishly set, with little touches like silver ribbon around the carving knife that made Puck smile, _Kurt was here_. Kurt gestured to a free seat opposite Carole, and spoke easily, "Finn, if I may request your assistance in the kitchen?"

"Uh..."

"I need your help carrying stuff in."

"Oh, right! Yeah. Sure."

And suddenly Puck was alone with the parents. _ Fuck my fucking life._

"So, Puck," Carole started, her voice friendly but strained. She'd never really forgiven him for sleeping with Quinn, so he supposed that made sense. "How have you been? How's your sister and your mother?"

"Sarah's good," Puck nodded, avoiding looking at Burt in case the man managed to turn him to stone with his glare. _Sarah's a nice, safe topic. I can talk about Sarah._ "She's obsessed with Disney Princesses right now. She's decided she wants to be Belle."

"That's sweet," Carole smiled a little more naturally; she adored Sarah, having had both Puck and the little girl stay with her on nights when their mother was out or too drunk to function. "And your mother?"

"Pretty much the same," Puck shrugged, and Carole nodded sympathetically. Burt's voice was flat and furious.

"Are you sleeping with my son?"

"Burt!" Carole hissed, and Puck's eyes snapped to Burt's. Burt was undeterred by his partner's anger.

"Are you?" he demanded, his voice harsh. Puck felt resentment bubbling up in him; _who the fuck does he think he is?_

"Frankly, sir," he bit out, trying desperately not to shout._ Kurt will never speak to you again if you lose it, Puckerman. Stay calm_. "As Kurt is 16, I don't think it's really your business if he sleeps with his boyfriend or not."

Puck felt some satisfaction at the brief, dumbfounded expression on the parents faces, and couldn't help but smile when Kurt's voice backed him up, "He's right, you know."

Kurt glided back in carrying a pie, Finn trailing behind him awkwardly, with a salad bowl in his hands. Kurt set the pie down and then gave his father a hard glare. "I'm 16. I have as much right to sleep with my boyfriend as Finn does to sleep with his girlfriend. If Rachel were actually willing to let him see her naked you'd buy him some condoms and give him a high-five."

Puck disguised a laugh as a cough as Kurt stood, hands on hips and glaring, staring down his father. Carole looked faintly amused, and Finn looked like he was daydreaming about Rachel naked. Burt tried again.

"Wasn't he one of the ones who threw pee balloons at you?"

"So was Finn," Kurt shrugged. Puck piped up helpfully.

"It was his idea, actually."

"Finn!"

"It was, like, two years ago, mom!"

"Was he one of the kids who nailed all out lawn furniture to the roof?"

"Probably," Kurt shrugged, tossing his hair and sniffing disdainfully. "I don't care anymore. He's grown up...somewhat, at least. I like him. He likes me. I'm going to date him, dad. Whether you approve or not. We want your blessing, but it isn't essential."

Burt stood up, face like thunder. Kurt didn't stand down, just stared at him stubbornly. The father growled, "This punk made your life a living Hell. He made you cry. I've seen you come home bruised and dirty because of assholes like him and now I'm just meant to accept that he's fucking you under my roof and be okay with it?"

Kurt stuck his chin out, "Yes. Because he makes me happy, dad. I want this." There was a sassy edge to Kurt's voice and he leaned on one hip when he added, "And who says _he_'s fucking _me_?"

Finn choked on his drink, and suddenly everything was okay. Burt gave a grudging nod, Carole put a hand over her mouth to cover her smile, and Puck looked at Kurt with wide eyes.

He should have noticed he was falling for Kurt when the knowledge that he'd made Kurt cry, something he'd never really thought about happening, felt like a punch to the gut. He should have realised when he tried to kiss his apology into Kurt's mouth and neck when they said goodbye later that night. He definitely should have guessed when the idea of being fucked by Kurt came to him when he was lying in bed and provided him with jerking off material.

Kurt had never been the top in their relationship, and it had never been brought up, so Puck had never really thought about it before. He should have realised he was falling in love when the idea made him more curious than horrified, when the image of being taken by Kurt got him off rather than freaked him out. He should have seen it coming when, the next time Kurt managed to get over to his place when they had it to themselves, he blurted out this request like a goddamn blushing virgin;

"I want you to fuck me."

Kurt froze half way through the front door, and looked at Puck like a deer in headlights. Puck felt his face heat up and looked away , scowling. He muttered, "I mean, you love it so it must feel good. I just thought, you know, if you wanted to we could switch it up a bit. But forget it, forget I said anything. You want to play Super Mario Brothers?"

"No!" Kurt yelped, dropping his bag on the floor in a spot near the door where it basically lived now. "I mean, yes, I also want to play Super Mario, but I don't want to forget it. I want to f-fuck you. I just didn't think you'd be up for it. You're so-"

"Dominant? Manly? Badass?" Puck suggested, confidence returning as he wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and kneaded that ass he loved so much. Kurt gave an appreciative , "Mmm" and ran his fingers up Puck's chest.

"I was going to say macho, but I guess those others work too," he purred, and Puck gave his ass a hard pinch for the mocking edge in his voice. Kurt let out a very undignified squeak and tried to step away, but Puck pulled them together for a long kiss. His heart raced, and he chalked it up to nerves and excitement that he might be crossing the last sexual boundary he had, but maybe he should have known then that it was the start of him falling for Kurt. Or maybe it was the middle. Puck really didn't know.

He felt something when he and Kurt were kissing slowly on his bed, naked, sweat skin sliding together in a way that felt more erotic then getting head from any of the overly botoxed cougars ever had. Kurt drove him wild like no one else, turning sex from a game or a contest into an experience in of itself. Kurt was demanding but active, constantly moving and touching and just relishing in the feel of Puck. It made Puck feel powerful and hot like nothing else ever had.  
That day, that first time Kurt had topped, that was when Puck started to get an inkling that he might more than like Kurt. It had been four months since that first rehearsal, five since the shoelaces, and two days since Puck had worked up the nerve to admit to himself that he wanted a relationship. It was way too soon for Puck to seriously start thinking about love - if he ever did - so he just pushed the thought out of his mind and focused on the strange feeling of Kurt's first finger sliding in to the knuckle.

Puck's hiss was swallowed by Kurt's mouth as the slender boy tried to relax and distract him. Puck focused on the slide on lips rather than the intrusion, still loving the feeling of those impossibly soft lips caressing his. He was rubbing his own cock lazily as Kurt scissored two fingers, kind of enjoying the burn but not understanding why Kurt went so nuts for it, when Kurt's fingers jabbed him in such a way that felt so good it almost hurt.

"Fuck!" he'd yelped, bucking his hips away from the shock of pleasure in fright. "What - that's what a prostate feels like? Holy shit."

Kurt chuckled, watching Puck's unfocused eyes as he finger fucked him, "Yeah, that's it. Image what it's like for me when you're hitting it every - " he stroked the spot again, causing Puck to thrash against the feeling, " - single -" he hit it again, drinking in the helpless noises Puck made as he drove him wild, " - stoke."

Puck was moaning and bucking his hips, barely aware of what he was doing as Kurt just kept hitting that spot over and over again. He was also barely aware of the third finger when it slid in, opening him up like he'd never been before. By the time Kurt slipped on a condom and lined up with his entrance, Puck was convinced that Kurt had the right idea; bottoming was fan_tas_tic.

It did hurt, Kurt's cock being thicker than his fingers, but it was a good hurt, a hot hurt, like Kurt's nails digging into his back when Puck fucked him. Kurt swore like a sailor as he sank home, arms trembling on either side of Puck's head as he waited for Puck's go-head. Puck nodded quickly; he could take pain if it meant Kurt hit that spot again. It took a few tries, Kurt's eyes screwed shut in concentration, but soon Puck was moaning and thrashing and Kurt was fucking him hard, like Kurt loved when Puck did it to him. It didn't last long for either of them, but afterwards, when Kurt had licked all the cum off of Puck's chest and stomach, Puck felt a strong wave of affection that he put down to afterglow. It had been way too soon to think about love.

It was only on their six-month-aversery that Puck really realised that he was beyond whipped. Kurt hadn't mentioned it but Puck remembered the dates very well. He had plans, good plans. Plans about them both getting laid so hard they would walk funny for a week and everyone would know what they'd been doing. Plans that would leave them both with pulled muscles and unable to wear anything but turtlenecks for a month. These were fantastic plans.

Sadly, because of his stupid drunk mother being God-only-knows where and his seriously annoying baby sister getting the flu, those plans had fallen down around his ears.

When he picked Sarah up from school at 3 she was pale and sweaty. She looked up at him with unfocused eyes, then threw up on his shirt. Her teacher assured him - as she helped him clean up in the staff bathroom - that it wasn't serious. A bug had been going around the class, a few days at home in bed and she'd be fine. He drove her home and did all the right things; tucked her into bed with a bucket and a wet washcloth for her forehead, Googled the recipe for chicken soup, opened her windows so she got some fresh air...the knock on the door at 4.30 made him jump out of his skin. Kurt! _Oh shit..._

He ran to the door and flung it open. Kurt was texting someone, wearing a pair of black skinny jeans Puck adored for their tightness and his old Cheerio shirt. _Oh, fuck my life. He finally wore the Cheerio top and I have to bail to look after Sarah._

"Kurt!" Puck blurted out, flustered with worry for his sister and the knowledge that he his plan was now impossible. Kurt looked at up the exclamation, taking in Puck's wide eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"If you accidentally double-booked fuck buddies, I'm not doing a threesome," he said flatly, hand on his hip. Puck snorted, pulling him in and placing a kiss on his forehead.

"I don't have fuck buddies, just a seriously hot-ass boyfriend. No, it's Sarah. Picked her up from school today only to get thrown up on. She's picked up a virus or some shit, I got to look after her."

"Sarah? Is she okay?" Kurt's expression changed from catty to concerned in a heartbeat, and he pushed passed Puck without waiting for his answer. Puck followed him down the hall.

"The teacher said something had been going around and not to worry about it. I don't really know what to do though," Puck admitted as Kurt approached Sarah's room. Kurt breezed into the room without pausing, rushing over to the side of Sarah's bed.

"Sarie!"

"Kurtie!" Sarah sat up in her bed, reaching out for the countertenor the second she saw him. She had tears in her eyes as she wailed, "I'm sick!"

"I know, honey, Puck told me," Kurt soothed her, giving her a gentle hug and pushing her back into bed. "Lie down, sweetheart, you'll feel better."

"I don't feel good," Sarah pouted, sniffing. Kurt pushed some of her sweaty hair off of her forehead tenderly, sitting next to her on her bed with a sympathetic expression. Puck spoke gently, trying not to be touched by the sight.

"I'm going to make you some chicken soup when I can find a recipe, Sar-bear.

"Do you want me to do it?" Kurt offered, sitting up on the bed. "We don't want to poison the poor thing, she already feels sick. You can stay here with Sarah."

Sarah reached out for him with an enormous pout and the world's most potent puppy-dog eyes while Kurt said this, so before Puck could register the slight against his cooking he was curled up on Sarah's bed next to her with her leaning against him piteously, reading to her from Barbie's Magical Pony Adventures (complete with different voices per character). He'd gotten to the part where Barbie's magical pony Stardust was saving the day with the power of song when Kurt's familiar giggle drifting over to him. The pale boy was standing in the doorway with three bowls of soup and three glasses of apple juice standing on a tray balanced in his arms. He was looking at Puck with open affection as he carefully brought it over, resting the tray on his and Sarah's lap before taking his own spot on Sarah's other side.

"Dreadfully sorry to interrupt the show," he quipped, settling in. "But I figure we could all have an early dinner. This is chicken soup with carrots and celery. Yours doesn't have mushrooms in it Sarie, because I know you don't like them, and Puck, you don't have peas. Sarah, you get the Disney Princess cup, I'm taking the Barbie cup, and Puck's is the Transformers cup. Bon apatite!"

It was right then, looking at the super smoking boy taking care of his irritating but much beloved little sister, who knew both of their least favourite vegetables and that Puck's cup was the Transformers cup, who was now encouraging Puck to keep reading, even offering to do Barbie's voice himself, that Puck realised that he was totally, madly, unquestionably, head-over-heels in love with Kurt Hummel.

He was too shocked to freak out. Instead, he just picked the book up and started reading, laughing at Kurt's hilarious commentary ("Oh, Barbie, sweetie, no. That dress does not go with that crown. What do you think, Sarie, is Barbie a spring or a winter?") and making sure Sarah ate her soup. It took nearly an hour to finish the book between eating, laughing, and commentary, and by the end Sarah's eyes were shut and she was drooling on Puck's chest. Kurt helped him manoeuvre his way out from underneath her, carefully lifting the tray as they tip-toed out of the room. Puck left the door open a crack so they could hear her if she woke, and followed Kurt into the kitchen. He stared at the back of his boyfriend's head as they walked, mind strangely blank for his realisation. He thought there ought to be some big part of him denying it, freaking out, calling him a woman, a fag, _something_. He thought that he should be trying to talk himself out of it, convincing himself that Puckasauraus didn't fall in love or some shit, but he couldn't. All he could do was silently help Kurt put away the vegetables, fill up the sink with dishes, and watch as Kurt filled up about six Tupperware containers with soup.

"I've labelled them so you know whose is whose," the slender boy informed him softly. "I'll put a few in the freezer. You'll have home cooking for days, imagine that! Do you want me to make excuses for you in Glee? I know you'll probably want to stay at home with her, and I don't blame you, but we both know you won't want them knowing you're playing dad to your baby sister. Don't worry, I'll make it sufficiently badass. How about, you need to stay home because you pulled your hamstring whilst taking down three guys at Fight Club?"

"I love you."

Kurt froze with his arm in the fridge. He turned to face Puck, who was standing in the middle of the kitchen with a blank look on his face. Kurt took a shaky breath and shook his head.

"Don't joke with me, Puck. Not about that."

"I'm not joking," Puck shrugged, and turned to face the sink. He stuck his hands in the warm soapy water, scrubbing at the nearest pot mindlessly. His voice was tight when he continued, but he ignored the heat on his cheeks in favour of glowering at the dishes. "I love you. I just realised when you brought in the soup. It's no big deal. You don't have to say it back if you don't want to. I just wanted you to know."

There was a long pause. Kurt voice was thoughtful when he asked, "Why?"

Puck stopped scrubbing for a moment, thinking. He thought about the way he felt when Kurt smiled that secret smile at him, the way his chest felt tight when Kurt described with a flat voice what the word 'fag' made him feel. He tried to think of a way to explain how proud he felt to walk down the corridors at school with Kurt hand-in-hand, how he had never been as happy as that day he, Kurt and Sarah had watched Finding Nemo with the sound off, adlibbing the dialogue just for the hell of it. He tried to think of words to describe how much it took from him to let Kurt top, and how he had never regretted it for a second. All he could think of was, "You know that the Transformer's cup is mine."

"And?"

"And I'm not embarrassed."

"Oh," Kurt fell silent again, and Puck went back to scrubbing the pot. He glared at the water as he silently, violently berated himself.

_Me and my big fucking mouth, I probably scared him off. Shouldn't have told him, I sounded like an idiot. I bet he leaves - shit, what if he _leaves_?_

He didn't react when Kurt slid up next to him at the sink with a dishtowel in hand. They washed and dried the dishes in silence for a minute, Puck tense with fear, Kurt simply thoughtful. There wasn't much to do so it didn't take long, and as Puck put the last bowl in the cupboard above the bench he felt slender arms wrap around his waist.

"For the record," Kurt murmured, pressing a tender kiss to the back of Puck's neck. "I think your Transformer's cup is adorable. And I love you too."

Before Puck had realised he was doing it, he had turned around and pulled Kurt against him; not kissing him, just holding the other boy close to him. Kurt's arms slid around his neck and hung on, and then they just stood there. Puck pulled back so he could look in Kurt's eyes, "You're sure, right? 'Cause I'm sure. I'm really sure. Really, really sure. And if you're not sure you shouldn't say it, 'cause I really want you to be sure and if you're not sure I'll be really upset-"

Kurt shut him up with a firm kiss, only pulling back to say, "I'm sure. I've known for a while. That I loved you, I mean. I had no idea that you felt that strongly about me."

Puck's grin was beginning to hurt his face, and he buried his face in the crook of Kurt's neck. He pressed gentle kisses along the pale column of throat, thinking,_ I love you, I love you, I love you_ over and over again. Kurt giggled a little at the tickling kisses and squeezed Puck a little tighter.

"We can't have too much fun and risk missing Sarah calling us if she needs to," the smaller boy whispered, reluctantly pulling away. "But how about you take out the Nintendo and we play a few rounds?"

Puck choked on a laugh and shook his head, "This feels anticlimactic. Like, it should be a bigger deal that we're totally in love, you know? But it just feels-"

"Natural?" Kurt smiled sweetly, reaching up to stroke Puck's cheek. "It is. I love you. You love me. It's no drama. It just is, and it will be for as long as it just is. Sound good to you?"

Puck brushed his lips against Kurt's, "Sounds perfect."

"Good! So, Super Mario Brothers?"

"Hells yeah," Puck pressed a final kiss to the centre of Kurt's forehead before practically skipping into the living room. "Whatever you want, Princess."

"Just keep the sound off!" Kurt called out, shutting the cupboard doors. "I still can't hear the theme tune without wanting to jump you."

Puck laughed and grinned and fell a little bit deeper in love. Later, he took a picture of Sarah sleeping on his cell phone and printed a copy out. He placed it lovingly in the shoebox shrine that contained a pair of worn shoelaces and the game box of Super Mario Brothers. When Kurt found it in the back of his closet at NYU three years later, it also held a dried button-hole flower (from Prom), an empty packet of Skittles (from their first date as high school graduates), a torn ribbon (left over from Kurt's portfolio entrance to the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York), a torn envelope (from Kurt's acceptance letter), a printout of an ad (for their first apartment), and the receipt for a diamond ring (that Kurt hadn't seen yet). The countertenor grinned and fetched his own box from the other closet, putting his own treasures in alongside Puck's. He made sure his own receipt for the titanium band he'd bought last week sat next to the diamond ring's, and looked fondly at the shoelaces. It was all their fault. They totally deserved their place in the shrine.


End file.
